this looks terrible but i'm sick of messing with it so

like lightning

it all comes down to whether or not you give a damn. for ria. xx

One dull and dreary day in late September, James finally gets sick of waiting.

(that’s not true at all; he could honestly wait for her forever.)

Dark clouds crawl across the sky, thunder rumbles ominously in the distance, but she’s laughing, joking about finishing their patrol outside before the heavens open and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard and he can’t hold back anymore.

He catches her hand suddenly, and she whirls around, her hair tracing a graceful arc in the air.

“James? What—”

“I love you,” he shouts into the howling wind. Part of him hopes desperately that the brewing storm drowned him out; that she hadn’t heard such a brusque confession from him, that he has a chance to confess more romantically.

(another part hopes that she heard because damn, that was terrifying to say.)

He waits; he’s not sure if it’s approaching thunder or his own heartbeat, but there’s a thudding in his ears and he can’t breathe.

Lily drops his hand and he has his answer.

The rain pours.

“Well, what was I supposed to say?”

Even with her head buried under a pillow, her dorm mates decipher the muffled moans of anguish.

Anything’s better than ‘thank you’. I mean, really, Lils?” Marlene tuts and Lily screams into her mattress.

‘I love you, too,’ probably would’ve been a good place to start,” Mary suggests offhandedly.

Lily huffs as she surfaces and sits up. “But I don’t, though.”

Mary, by now accustomed to the ongoing drama of Lily and James’ relationship, simply rolls her eyes, sighs in resignation and continues her Transfiguration homework.

Quirking a brow, Marlene says sceptically, “Okay.” Lily slumps back onto the bed in defeat, and she repeats, quieter, “Okay.”

They suffer through about a week of painful awkwardness before he catches her alone.

“Listen,” James turns away from her, his hands shoved uneasily into his pockets. “About… the other day. We can just, y’know, forget it. Pretend it didn’t happen. If you want.”

She watches as he gently kicks at the castle walls. She’s not sure why, but something tightens inside her painfully.

(she could start something here, she could say, no, let’s not pretend…)

(she could, she could, but she doesn’t.)

“Okay,” she whispers to her toes.

She feels, rather than sees, his body deflate. He exhales, long and slow.

“Okay,” his voice cracks, and something inside her does, too.

Please don’t tell us you said ‘thank you’ again.”

Lily sniffs irritably. “Of course not.”


“… I said… ‘okay’,” Lily admits and prepares to dodge pillows turned into projectile weapons, but they never come. Instead, Mary drops next to her on her bed and wraps her arms around her. “Mary?”

“It’s going to hit you one day, Lily,” she whispers. “There’s going to be a moment where you have to decide if you give a damn about this, about him, and you have to brave enough to admit that you do.”

“It’s going to hit you,” Marlene says gently as she sits on Lily’s other side, “and it’s probably going to hurt.”

The girls sit there, arms in a tangled mess, until Lily breaks the silence, her voice barely audible.

“It hurts now.”

One dull and dreary day in early October, Lily takes James’ hand. She traces his palm with her fingertips, feels his pulse quicken and stutter under his skin, although it’s hard to distinguish between his and hers.

Finally, she admits quietly, “I don’t know if I can say it.”

“Say what?” The huskiness of his voice does little to calm her.

“You know what,” she mumbles, ashamed that she can’t even vocalise it as a hypothetical.

“That’s not…” he ran his free hand through his hair, “that’s not the reason I told you I love you, Lily. I said it because it’s true and I thought it was the right time to tell you which, given everything that’s happened since then, probably wasn’t actually a good time…”

She watches him ramble on adorably, his hand still in his hair, a trademark gesture of nervousness; his glasses are lopsided and sliding down his nose. Everything about him is so perfectly James, the mere idea of losing him stings.

And that’s when it happens.

Oh. Oh.

And it doesn’t hurt (in fact, it makes everything stop hurting); it hits her like lightning, starting like a spark in her chest and growing and blooming until her whole body feels tingly and alive. She glances down at their hands, still connected, and squeezes tightly.

James stops ranting to look at her. “Lil?”

She shyly lifts her eyes up to his, bright green meeting warm hazel, and smiles beatifically.

“I love you,” she yells. There’s neither thunder nor a roaring wind to compete with, but she wants to make sure he hears her, wants her words to ring in his ears forever.

His smile grows slowly, broadening into the widest, cheekiest grin she’s ever seen on his face. He pulls her flush against him and she laughs delightedly at his response.

“Thank you!”
Barely Dressed; Never Snogging

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The first time Lily Evans wore James Potter’s shirt was an accident.

Lily grabbed it from the clean laundry pile that the House Elves placed on her trunk the night before. She threw it over her head and as it slid down her face into place she realized how good the shirt smelled. She mused that when her clothes came back from the elves, they never smelled so…good.

She didn’t notice it wasn’t one of her Gryffindor shirts until the hem fell right above her knees like a very short dress. The soft cotton was well worn and soft against her bare skin, colored scarlet with a lion rearing on the front majestically. Lily pulled it off just as quickly as she’d put it on, checking the tag and seeing no name written in. When she flipped it over to view the back she was in luck.

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Come Find Me VI

So this is a little short, but at least I got something done? I hope you like it anyway, sorry for the delay. This is a turning point in the story. I promise, things get a little better from here. Also @cosmic-melodies, since you asked.

Anxiety jerked his jaw out of Roman’s grip. Roman let him, but didn’t let his gaze shift off the other side. He didn’t know what was going on here, but he knew it was serious. Part of him wanted to go right now and fetch Logic and Morality. But at the same time he didn’t want to risk Anxiety clamming up even more.

“So,” he began slowly, his mind racing. “There are several things I need to address. But let’s start simple. Why weren’t you eating?”

Anxiety wasn’t looking at him. “Why the fuck should I tell you,” he said, his shoulders hunching in.

“Because what you seem to believe,” Roman snapped, frustration and worry bubbling up from within him. “I actually do care about what happens to you! And actually, you know what, let’s start there instead. Why on earth would you think we don’t care about you? We fight, yes, but that doesn’t mean I hate you. That doesn’t mean I want to see you hurt. That doesn’t mean I want to see you like this!”

“You know Princey,” Anxiety said, his hands fiddling with the hem of his jacket, “You’re really good at those pretty words and promises. A real charmer, if you will. But see the thing is, it’s your actions that show the truth. So I don’t think you guys don’t care about me. I know you don’t. So you don’t have to lie and play nice because you think it makes you a hero. Just forget we ever had this conversation and go back to your oh so perfect life. I don’t care anymore.”

Roman’s frown deepened. Anxiety didn’t sound angry like he had before. Now he just sounded defeated. Not to mention what he was actually saying was disturbing.

“You said something about that earlier,” he said, trying to recall the exact words. “Something about learning your lesson, and then later how it took a week for us to find you this time. Wh-what were you talking about.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter, okay,” Anxiety told him, his hands beginning to ball into fists. “Nothing fucking matters anymore.”

Roman stared at him. This wasn’t good. He had to figure out where all this was coming from, but if Anxiety couldn’t talk to him, how on earth was he supposed to do that?

Think, Roman, think, he thought. Use your creativity, and work it out.

Okay, he thought. Anxiety hasn’t eaten in week, uh, that’s the same amount of time he talking about us taking to find him. Find. That’s an interring choice of words. And earlier he sounded really upset about why I did come in, talking about how it wasn’t because we cared…

“Did you want us to find you?” he blurted out, things suddenly clicking into place.

“Right now I want you to leave me alone.” Anxiety snarled, his shoulders hunching in defensively.

But Roman wasn’t deterred.

“You wanted us to search for you,” he said, mind racing furiously. “You wanted us to notice that you were gone, to prove that we cared, that we’d help you. And we-“

“Didn’t.” Anxiety finished for him. “Yeah, I noticed that. I mean, I guess part of me always knew, but this past week just helped to make that little fact crystal clear.”

Roman was going to be sick. This was a disaster. They-he had messed up so badly.

“Anxiety, that’s not true. I am so sorry, I, we didn't” he stammered out.

“Really, Roman?” Anxiety rolled his eyes. “I thought we went over this. Telling me a pretty lie won’t magically make this all better. And you know what, maybe this all of best. Now I know what to expect, instead of hop- whatever. Point is, it’s done.”

Roman felt helpless. He could have stopped this days ago. He’d been right by Anxiety’s door, and if he had just reached out and knocked, things would have been better. But he hadn’t, and now he might broken Anxiety’s trust in him forever. And Anxiety was right, there were no words to fix this.

But, maybe, actions might.

The beginnings of a plan beginning to swirl inside his mind, Roman reached out and wrapped his arms around Anxiety.

I’m going to make this up to you, he vowed silently. For what kind of prince would I be if I ignored the injury I so callously dealt you.

Anxiety shoved him away. “Get off,” he hissed.

Prince let him.

“I’m going to go talk to Morality about making soup for lunch,” he said. “I’ll be back soon to bring you some more water though. Try not to move too much. You need to let your body recover.”

Anxiety scoffed “Yeah, yeah, do whatever the hell you want. I really could not care less.”

But Roman could hear the lie in his voice. Anxiety did care what he and the others did, more than he had ever realized.

“I’ll be back soon,” he repeated, then headed towards the door.

Morality was probably in the common room. The trick would be not revealing why he wanted soup. Maybe he could play the random craving card.

True, telling the others might make things easier, and Roman did think they would need to learn at some point what had happened, but he’d promised not to say anything to them. And right now he had already lost enough Anxiety’s trust. He didn’t need to lose anymore.

Part I Part II Part III Part IV Part V Part VII

anonymous asked:

I know requests are closed, but if you do have time could you pleeeease make a hc where RFA+Saeran+V react to adopted MC who feels replaced because her parents have biological children? I'm not actually adopted, but fuck it kinda hurts to be secluded by your own family who you see everyday. If it bothers you or if you just don't want to do it, then feel free to ignore this, I don't want to make you uncomfortable.

A/N: I’m sorry you feel this way! I have a similar feeling with my step family who tend to like my siblings more because they’re actually my dads children, so i get how hurtful some of it can be! I truly hope you’re okay and I hope you feel better soon, remember that you aren’t alone and i love you! ^^ ~Admin 404


               -He loves his family so much, he’s constantly talking about them

               -And you’re always there to smile and nod along, happy to listen to him

               -But every now and then you start to cry and he doesn’t know why?? You tell him it’s nothing though

               -He finally got the truth from you and was shocked to find out that you feel this way?

               -“What kind of parents make their child feel unloved like that?? Who?? HOW??”

               -Cannot wrap his head around why they would do this to you, you’re absolutely amazing! He loves you so much!

               -When he catches you crying you have to contain the Yandere Yoosung™

               -Though really, hearing you explain how you feel makes him cry as well???

               -Both of y'all are just a sobbing mess, but there’s lots of cuddles which is nice!

               -“MC! My parents love you like crazy, that has to count too…. right?”


               -*frantic barking at your parents*

               -He’s such an attack dog, he just wants to protect you

               -Your parents are actually afraid of him?

               -Totally… did not grab your father by the collar and shake him around… telling him how great you are and how stupid they both were for not recognizing it… no… of course not..

               -He’s felt out of place in his own family as well. He was blood, sure, but he felt like he never had a chance against his brother

               -So he has a similar feeling, though not exact.

               -Meaning, there are constant reassurances and kisses

               -Even some lullabies! Anything to make you happy!

               -He tells you how he felt when he met V. He was brought into the RFA, met these people he now calls friends

               -Considers the RFA his new family. Even Jumin. They were there for him when he felt no one else was and he wants you to know that, no matter what, the RFA, himself included, would always be your family.


               -She was practically adopted by her uncle and aunt so she completely gets what you feel

               -Her aunt didn’t want to adopt her, or well… take care of her at least

               -So she understands the feeling of being unwanted, ignored, things of the sort

               -And?? Is angry that you have to go through this?

               -Absolutely does /not/ want you to feel how she felt. She knows how low she felt and how badly she just wanted to feel accepted and loved and she’s always constantly reminding you how much you truly mean to her

               -She isn’t afraid to stand up to your parents and tell them that they need to up their game

               -You’re their child, whether by blood or by choice, and they should give you the love and care you deserve

               -And if they don’t, then she’s right there to tell you they aren’t worth your time. Trust her, she knows

               -Is always there with a hot drink, cuddles, and soothing music for when it hits you harder than usual

               -Y'all can form your own family! With blackjack and hookers (4 no now is not the time)


               -He thinks a good family relationship is extremely important

               -So when he heard that your family was treating you this way he stayed quiet and just left the room?

               -When you followed him you heard him spit harsh whispers into his phone, you only caught something along the lines of “still your child”

               -So it was safe to say he had called your parents and that made you cringe a little bit

               -Taking the phone out of his hand, you hung up and kissed his cheek, thanking him for the gesture but he didn’t need to go to your parents for it

               -When he shot you a very confused look, you explained that you know they loved you, but sometimes it just felt… terrible that it seemed your siblings got more of the love just because they’re blood

               -He nodded and told you about his half siblings, and how sometimes he feels as though he gets more attention than them because of who he is. He wanted to just let you know that there’s a possibility your siblings feel the same way as he does. Maybe they feel bad about it?

               -And it was something about him sharing his feelings that soothed you. He’s still trying to learn about his emotions but sharing them with you, but knowing that his feelings actual give you a piece of mind, he could feel his heart flutter

               -Every time you get upset over your parents treating you like you don’t even exist, he’s right there defending you and he’s talking to your parents like they’re children

               -You have to drag him out of the room by his shirt collar sometimes but even then that doesn’t stop him. He is very passionate about making sure they know what they’ve done and how it’s affected you


               -Fuck your family, MC, lololol

               -No but really he… he isn’t sure how to help since it’s not like he really had one. He didn’t feel accepted by his parents in the first place

               -So he was always there for a carefree outlook on the situation, some sick memes, and Sad Time Snacks™

               -Always holding you close and kissing all over your face

               -Constantly reminding you that you’ve got a new family now

               -You’re part of his and Saeran’s family! You don’t need the others, MC

               -Of course he understands that it’s not the same, but… he just wants you to know that you’re first in someone’s family book!

               -Totally doesn’t hack into your families accounts for literally everything?

               -Also totally doesn’t, you know, ruin their days by bringing up porn in an important meeting or mess with their computers so they can’t find the file they need to send to their boss

               -Every time you’re sad about it your family, he likes to show you webcam videos he’s gotten of your parents freaking out over his pranks and it never fails to make you laugh and brighten your mood. You may love them but seeing the karma play out is amazing


               -“I will send them a strongly worded letter. Dear MC’s parents, you can fuc-” “JIHYUN NO”

               -Does not mess around when it comes to your well being and your parents are Messing That Up™

               -You’ve actually?? Had to hold him back so he didn’t just run straight to your parents to give them a piece of his mind

               -Super sweet but when you’re involved he will get so angry

               -But there’s constant cuddles and cycles through family photos he’s taken for you and your family!

               -Always reassuring you that they do love you, MC, no matter what!

               -Even if they are… being problematic;;

               -Your siblings love him! So he has no problems getting them alone and turning on his Scary Eyes™ to intimidate them for information or to make them help get your parents to remember you need to spend time with them too

               -At family functions he’s always placing you on a large pedestal, trying to hint at your parents that hey hi hello, you’re just as amazing and your siblings~

               -“Don’t worry MC, our kids will be loved equally by the both of us~”


               -If there’s anyone who understands your feelings, it’s him.

               -He constantly feels as if the members of the RFA replaced him in Saeyoung’s heart and it pisses him off to no end

               -Yeah he hated him at one point but now he just wants to make sure he’s relevant in his life

               -So he gets how you feel, being replaced, even if it’s a little different.

               -Always there to listen to you rant and cry

               -He’ll just stroke your hair and wipe away any tears that may fall

               -Trusts you enough to tell you that he feels the same way, even telling you what he’s afraid of if it’s relevant and if it’ll make you feel better

               -Offers to fight your family and you have to calm him down

               -He just doesn’t like to see you upset so offers… to eliminate the problem. But you have to physically hold him back sometimes because as much is it hurts?? They’re still your family??? And you love them??

               -So he settles on making sure there’s enough ice cream for both your crying and his obsession. There isn’t anything you’ll let him physically do…. that you know of. Has he gone to tell your parents off? Maybe. Maybe they got a strongly worded text. Maybe their phones were hacked into, who knows?


Cuddles are the best remedy

Words: 691

Genre: Fluff (that’s all I know how to write apparently)

Warnings: Dan swears a bit, but what’s new

Description: Dan wakes up feeling unwell, and it’s way too early for him to deal with this

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butteredonions  asked:

can I ask for more of the ulaz/shiro 'humans are weird when sick' post. you could just do three sentences. that'd be fine. or more. that'd be fine too. (i'm terrible and i admit it)

i am doing a thing

successor to this

Shiro wakes up hours later coughing and gagging, spasming against Ulaz’s body as he struggles to sit up. Ulaz grabs Shiro by the shoulders and forces him up into a sitting position before he doubles over and vomits. He’s covered in a thin sheen of sweat, and his face is a mess of snot and drool and now, tears.

“M’sorry.” Shiro slurs, shuddering and falling back against Ulaz. “Sorry.” His eyes are damp and glazed and unfocused. He won’t stop shaking. Don’t humans shake when they’re cold?

“Shiro, you need to sit up.” Ulaz says. Shiro seems entirely unwilling to do much more than drool and grasp at Ulaz’s shirt, so he forces him up again and climbs out from under him. It’s time to get the other humans involved. Shiro falls back against the pillows and curls in on himself. 

With Shiro this boneless, it’s unlikely that Ulaz will be able to do anything other than just bodily move him around. Ulaz sighs, and kneels down on the bed to pull Shiro up by the armpits. His eyes are closed now, his breathing evened out. Maybe if he’s passed out this will be easier. He reaches down, taking ahold of the hem of Shiro’s sick-stained shirt to change him into a clean one. 

Shiro blinks his eyes open and regards him blearily. “…Sendak?” He asks, and a tear slips down his cheek, and Ulaz’s stomach drops.

“No, Shiro.” Ulaz says gently, and he gives up on the shirt, not wanting to even think of the implications of that. He’d rather Shiro have a dirty shirt than fever-induced flashbacks. “I’m taking you to the other paladins. It’s time to get you in a pod.”

Shiro still looks upset and confused, but he closes his eyes in resigned assent. When Ulaz picks him up, Shiro lets out a soft, low whine.

“Don’t worry.” Ulaz murmurs. “The others will know what to do.”

“Don’t–” Shiro gags, presses his face against Ulaz’s chest. “Don’t let them take my other arm.” He begs.

“I won’t let them.” Ulaz promises, burning with guilt. “I’ll keep you safe this time.” By the time they’re in the hall, Shiro has passed out again, but Ulaz still holds him close. There are so many ways he has failed Shiro.

This time, he’ll do it right.

anonymous asked:

If you have seen the new Friday the 13th all of the Jason kills could you do something with the vagabond since he's the most serial killerey. *finger guns*

Hey now, Ryan will have you know that mercenaries and serial killers are two distinctive entities thank you very much. That said, i just watched the video and good grief yes. Ryan’s got the right frame for it too, the strength to swing those axes, spikes and machete’s with deadly force, so when he goes through a bladed weapon fad Los Santos is left in shambles.

They’re all killers but Ryan certainly has more capacity for playing with his food than any of the others, a streak of wretched creativity the world could live without. It’s clearest to see in his utter apathy concerning bodies, the sick amusement that shines through in moment’s like the one time Ryan snapped someone’s neck all the way around, laughing as he called to anyone who could hear Look guys, I owl’d her!

Another stand out moment comes along when Ryan decides to use the shattered metal pole he found lying around a warehouse to speed up an interrogation he’d grown bored of. Driving the pole into the ground like a pike, pressing his captive’s face right against the sharpened tip, threatening to impale his head like a shish kebab if he didn’t talk. Unsurprisingly it proved to be one of Ryan’s more effective tactics.

While he gets away with the liberal use of axes and machetes, horrifically messy but thankfully a short lived amusement, the month of Jesus Christ what is Ryan playing with now comes to a screeching halt when he somehow gets his hands on an utter beast of a trident. Huge and heavy with razor sharp tines it wouldn’t be out of place in hell and Ryan, twirling it all around the penthouse with reckless abandon and an utterly giddy laugh, clearly couldn’t be happier. Then he takes it on a job, runs someone through and lifts the body like a trophy, and the rest of the Fake’s just pack it in, 100% fucking done and entirely unwilling to witness whatever grisly mess he’s determined to make. They leave, Ryan indignantly stays, and in all the years of FAHC shenanigans the LSPD have never faced a more horrific clean up. The trident never makes another public appearance, lost or confiscated or relegated to Ryan’s torture kit, but the stories from that day live on infamy.

roboticidol  asked:

Maybe Sakura gets sick and misses a few days of school and Nozaki gets worried and goes over to visit her! (If you want to that is!)

aww this is actlly rlly cute cus can u imagine how lost nozaki would feel? he and sakura hang out so much theyre like attached at the hip, he’d be so confused when one day shes just absent from class.


Nozaki gets so used to seeing Sakura that when she isn’t at school for a few days, it sticks out like a sore thumb in his mind.

He remembered standing blankly at the school gates in the morning, waiting for Sakura’s cheerful face to bound towards him and bubbling with some sort of gossip or news that she’d always be eager to share, because honestly the cute girl can never keep her mouth shut. They’d meet at the front gates on the campus and wander through the halls together, stopping at each other’s lockers and chatting up until class began. 

And as he realised, when the morning bell rang and he still hadn’t seen the redhead at all in the courtyard, that Sakura wasn’t there, he oddly felt like some sort of lost puppy.

If any of their friends noticed the way Nozaki quietly poked each of them to ask, “do you know where Sakura is?” with concern lacing his usually monotonous voice, they didn’t say anything.

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anonymous asked:

Hey, I've got a weird question. I'm a native Spanish speaker, and I don't remember having trouble with this, or even remember my younger siblings having problems with this when they started talking. How do you know when to say "ser" and when to say "estar", I'm asking out of genuine curiosity, because it doesn't even seem to be a problem for us in translations from any language, and I need t know how it's consciously learned.

Well, the native U.S. English speakers (and some UK English speakers) that I know of typically have to keep in mind that ser is more permanent and estar is not.

And really any Romance Language that has only one verb for “to be” (like French) has some problems with ser and estar

And then when you’ve learned it you have to keep it in mind for all the different tenses. So occasionally people will know it in present tense es vs. está but then mess up if it should be fuera / fuese or estuviera / estuviese or something like that.

How we categorize ser vs. estar:

[copied from another ask]

You use ser most often with things that are immutable or things that don’t change easily. The noun el ser itself means “a being”, as in “a physical existing person or creature”.

So when using ser it’s most often with description, occupation, nationality, personality, height, weight, and so on.

More in-depth explanations of the functions of ser include:

1. Description = es alto/a, es rubio/a, es blanco/a, es joven, es un hombre, es una mujer…

2. Occupation / Profession / Title / Role = es doctor(a), es dentista, es abogado/a, es madre, es padre, es profesor(a), es maestro/a…

3. Identity / Race / Species / Color = soy Marco, soy Ana, soy yo, eres tú, son ellos, son ellas, somos nosotros… es una silla [it’s a chair], es una ventana [it’s a window], es un gato [it’s a cat]… es asiática, somos humanos, es muy rojo, son blancos…

4. Material / Made of = es de seda [silk], es de madera [wood], es de plomo [lead], es de vidrio [glass], es de acero [steel]…

5. Nationality = soy estadounidense, ella es francesa, son ingleses, son japonesas…

6. Origin [More or less like Nationality]: es de Alemania, soy de los Estados Unidos, son de China, somos de Perú…

7. Personality, Height, Weight = es simpática, es amable, es receloso [miserly], es desagradable, es idiota, es alto, es baja, es flaca, es gorda, es delgada, es una persona feliz, es una persona… 

8. Telling time = es la una [it’s 1 o’clock], son las dos, ¿Qué hora es?, son las diez y cuarto

9. Possession = es mi [it’s my], es mío [it’s mine], es tu [it’s your], es tuyo[it’s yours]… etc.

10. Passive Voice = la mesa es puesta por ella [the table is set by her], la cama es hecha por él [the bed is made by him]…

The use of estar is predominately with location and temporary things. It’s connected to words like la estación ”season of the year”, estático/a ”static”, estable ”stable”, inestable ”unstable”, el estatus ”status”, el estante ”shelf”, el bienestar ”well being / health”, and so on.

When using estar it’s most often with location, condition, mood/emotion, illness/wellness, alive/dead, and temporary rather than long-term.

1. Location = estamos en la biblioteca [we’re in the library], está debajo de la mesa [it’s under the table], están encima de la cama [they’re on top of the bed], está en frente del hotel [it’s in front of the hotel]

2. Condition = está cansado/a [he/she is tired], está nervioso/a [he/she is nervous], está confuso/a [he/she is confused]

3. Mood, Emotion, Feeling = está triste [he/she is sad], está feliz [he/she is happy], está enojado/a [he/she is angry], está decepcionado/a [he/she is disappointed]

4. Illness and Wellness = está bien [he/she is (feeling) well], está fatal[he/she is (feeling) terrible], está enfermo/a [he/she is sick], está mejor[he/she is (feeling) better]

5. Alive and Dead = estamos vivos [we’re alive], está vivo/a [he/she is alive], estamos muertos [we’re dead], está muerto/a [he/she is dead]

6. The Progressive [-ing form] = está hablando [he/she is speaking], está cantando [he/she is singing], está yendo [he/she is going], está viniendo[he/she is coming], está haciendo [he/she is doing]

What’s a little trickier is when you COULD use either, but they imply different things…

Es verde. = It is green. [lit. “it is green in color”]

Está verde. = It is unripe. [lit. “it is not mature”, “it is still green”]

Es confuso/a. = It is confusing. [“it is not making sense”, “it causes confusion”]

Está confuso/a. = He/She is confused. [This person is in a state of confusion]

Son felices. = They’re happy people. [Personality]

Están felices. = They’re happy. [At this moment; Temporary]

Es genial. = It’s great. [Identification/Description]

Está genial. = It looks great. [Temporary appearance or feeling]

Es espantoso/o. = It’s horrifying. [Identification/Description]

Está espantoso/a. = He/She looks terrible. [Condition or temporary appearance]

Es viejo/a = He/She is an old person. [Identification/Description]

Está viejo/a. = It looks old/beat up. [Condition]

Es fatal. = It’s awful. OR It is deadly. [Identification/Description]

Está fatal. = He/She looks very sick. [Wellness, condition, or temporary appearance]

Es aburrido/a. = It’s boring. [Identification/Description]

Está aburrido/a. = He/She is bored. [Condition]

Son muertos. = They are dead people. [Identification/Description]

Están muertos. = They are dead. [Status]

Son unos enfermos. = They’re some sick people. [Identification/Description]

Están enfermos. = They are sick. [Condition, Wellness]

Es mejor. = It is better. [Identification/Description]

Está mejor. = He/She is (feeling) better. [Wellness]

Es un triste día. = It’s a sad day. [Identification/Description]

Ella está triste. = She is sad. [Mood]

I hope at least some of all that made sense.

Here’s some supplemental stuff that will probably explain it in a much more clear-cut way than I did:

[end of copy]

For us, the hardest part is when everything starts to be interchangeable but depends on context.

So if someone asks me if it should be… es rico/a or está rico/a what they end up meaning is “Which is correct and which is incorrect?”

But the real problem is that ser rico/a and estar rico/a are BOTH TECHNICALLY CORRECT… but that they’re used in different situations. 

Really, what I try to do is get people to link ser to el ser “a being” or los seres queridos “loved ones” / [lit. “liked beings”] and have them starting to link estar with estable “stable” / inestable “unstable” or with la estación “a season (of the year)”

For a native speaker it’s all so obvious that no one bats an eye.

But by the same token, I get plenty of questions from Spanish-speakers who ask me where to put a preposition when it’s things like “to leave off” or “to catch up” or “to give in”…

Where they know where the actual verb goes, but they wonder if it makes a difference where the preposition goes. Because in Spanish there’s a lot more variety with where you put a lo / la or a se or le/les etc.

What’s the worst is trying to explain how “to catch” and “to catch up” and “to catch up with” are all different expressions.

I think it’s just a question of repetition and having it pounded into your brain as a native speaker which one is right that you don’t even question it. 


  • MUSE A is an upcoming celebrity who just managed to get the right amount of publicity to start being well known. Before the idea of even making their music career become a reality, they were with MUSE B, the love of their life. Around the time of growing big overnight, A & B decide to celebrate and sleep together, resulting in the pregnancy of MUSE B. MUSE A’s management believes that the best thing for them to do is to move B out of A’s area and handle the finances for them while A is doing their tour. Fast forward to when their child is the age of 4 and MUSE A still hasn’t gone public yet about having a child. MUSE B is sick of dealing with their child’s tears at night when they ask when their daddy will be back to find the money they always leave hidden to help them out. It’s tearing MUSE A apart on the inside because they can’t actually spend time with his child, not being able to take them to the zoo or to get ice cream, missing birthdays, the first day of preschool, etc. Now they must figure out if they wanna go on with this and practically lose the love of his life along with his baby, or break the silence
  • MUSE A is the flower child, pure and happy and all things colorful. They’re constantly being bright and glowing, like it was in their nature. No matter the situation, they stayed happy. Bring in MUSE B, who’s this aspiring artist who wants nothing more than to fall in love with the right person, someone who will stick with them through the rise and fall of their stardom. MUSE A & B meet in an alleyway behind a Starbucks because security was sneaking B out in the back while A was trying to get away from the noise of screaming teens. They instantly click and become a thing, being spotted by tabloids and being called “CUTEST COUPLE OF THE YEAR” and whatnot. Fast forward to a couple of months in B’s career where they start to notice the slow things that were changing about MUSE A, like how they never laughed at their corny jokes anymore, and never ran into their arms when they get off a flight after being away from each other too long. It’s driving B insane that they might be losing the them, so they start acting out; smoking, drinking until 2 am the NEXT day. soon B finds out that A found someone else, but they won’t tell them about it. So instead of confronting them, B decides to keep the relationship going, testing A at every given chance to see when they’ll tell the truth. A knows that something is up and drops the side relationship because they truly love B, but they don’t think that B needs to know about the affair. So this is circled around lies and gossip and a hell of a lot of pictures of them in the club
  • MUSE A is the best friend of MUSE B — they’re like PB&J and the Stars to each other’s night sky. One night they get into a huge argument  and have a terrible falling out, resulting to neither of them talking to each other. One night, MUSE B has a fight with their parents and sneak out to go to a party. Suddenly they return home to see MUSE A sitting on their doorstep with dried up tears on their face. They break the news to MUSE B telling them that their parents went to look for them but were sadly involved in a terrible crash, taking both of their lives. B is devastated of course, not knowing what to do, especially because they’re an only child and their parents were as well. So now MUSE A feels bad for them, even if they aren’t friends anymore, and offer them to move in with them. B is going through all types of emotions and different ways of grieving ; acting out, drinking, clubbing every night. They only do it because they think they no longer have anyone that loves them. But A still does. Soon B breaks down one day when A is at work — or so they think. They get greeted with a tight hug and a crying A who’s kissing their forehead and rubbing their back. Soon they both develop the friendship the entire town knew and maybe even more, but B is still going through a hard time so they’ll sleep around and etc but still come back to love A, and its making them confused but they can’t let them go because they feel bad for them
  • MUSE A moves into the house next door to MUSE B, and coincidentally, their windows are kinda made to where they connect in a sorta way. They start off glancing at each other in first grade because B saw Toy Story play on A’s TV when their cable was cut off and to when A saw B get woken up from their day nap to be given their little puppy. Soon A gets the idea of talking to B in 3rd grade. They climbed out of their window and knocked on B’s window, offering Oreos and a cartoon marathon. They then became attached at the hip, the inseparable duo. Everyone knew their friendship was strong, no matter how much they fight. They’re in high school now and B has a partner while A is just living the single life. B’s other assumes that they’re being cheated on because A is always around them, but everyone knows its not true. B is then caught in choosing between their best friend and their relationship and chooses the relationship. Now instead of sneaking into the others room at night to cuddle and going downstairs to get breakfast without spooking out the other’s parents, they share awkward glances at each other, wondering when things will be back to the way they were. Little does A know that B is stuck in an out of control relationship that’s slowly messing with their mental. Cue the night B knocks frantically on A’s window to cry into their arms while sitting on the windowsill that connected. This can either stay as a friendship or become a relationship. Then B asks A to take their virginity because they trust them with it, and so they took it and cherished it for their entire lives but have to deal with B still dealing with their partner.

anonymous asked:

Hello! I'm not sure whether you take requests but I love your writing, especially Philophobia, and would love to see some more high school caretaking stuff. Maybe Tim is sick and Jay looks after him / worries about him or something?

Hi Nonnie! Oh my gosh thank you so much! :) Here ya go:

“There he is!” Roy jabs Jason in the arm painfully. It causes the pen Jason’s holding in his hand to scratch a line of black ink down the center of his homework. He frowns, worried that teacher will take off points for the mess. If Roy just ruined his perfect GPA so help him…

Then his words fully process and Jason turns to the front of the room so fast he nearly gives himself whiplash. Because there he was. The he that has haunted Jason’s thoughts ever since he asked Jason to borrow some gum in the seventh grade, five years ago, even though they haven’t spoken since. The he that Kori and Roy have teased Jason relentlessly over, because nothing makes Jason a nervous wreck like he does.

Keep reading

stayforthenightifyouwantto  asked:

Hi, I'm v confused about the hunters situation and I'm just trying to understand it more. Because Apollo is obviously against the rule that hunters can't date, is the homophobia coming from Rick? Or is this a literal Artemis thing? I'm not trying to offend or anything honestly, I just don't understand and because I am straight, I'm just trying to figure out where you're coming from because I can't really empathize. I hope I'm not saying anything wrong

this is the most coherent synthesis of my thoughts. as to whether i blame rick or not…i mean it’s a more complicated thing?

like, obviously homophobia is a real actual thing that exists and while i (and many lesbians) might be sick of reading stories about lesbians dealing with trauma and tragedy (because we get that enough in real life & sometimes you just want some lesbian-affirming escapism) emmie and jo have obviously…lived a long and happy life together and are really a beautiful couple, and i am ultimately beside myself with joy that they exist.

and (i would really have to read the book bc i need more context for this) if canon truly does present it like “artemis is pretty much a raging homophobe for doing this but at least they’re happy” then i will be…pacified, i guess.

but i think that canon is vague enough that it doesn’t really comment on whether or not artemis’ rules are terrible either way, even apollo thinking that he disapproves doesn’t do very much because obviously apollo doesn’t approve of swearing off sex or romance and he and artemis have always argued about that. so i think it’s probably less of “my sister’s a homophobe and she sucks” and more of “i’ve always thought these rules were stupid and this is just Extra dumb.” which is just too vague and not satisfactory enough. if you’re going to write homophobic characters and characters dealing with homophobia, then you’ve got to call it what it is. and like, obviously if rick had presented it like “this is homophobic and bad” then there wouldn’t really be any of this discussion in the first place because all the readers would have reached this same conclusion immediately after reading the book, and us lesbians wouldn’t have to tiredly pick through it and be like “actually, guys, this is Not Great”

there’s also the fact that um…he didn’t have to do this. like we could go back and forth for how artemis is presented in the myths, there’s plenty of different opinions on what she actually stood for and interpretations of her character within greek mythology. there’s a couple myths that paint her in an atrocious light, notably the myth where she banished callisto from the hunt because zeus had raped her and gotten her pregnant (there is no way to present this story in a way that doesn’t make artemis look disgusting) and the one where polyphonte ran to artemis for protection from aphrodite, aphrodite got mad and cursed her into falling in love with a bear, and artemis was so disgusted that she kicked her out of the hunt and made all the beasts in her domain hunt her down as punishment.

so anyway, i’m not under the assumption that artemis was a great intersectionalist feminist or anything like that, because she obviously has her messy history, just like the rest of the characters in greek mythology. but that’s where revisionism becomes fun: she is an ancient character with tons of different myths and forms, and considering there’s so many different versions of myths and most of them were created in oral tradition and then finally recorded by numerous men (greek men, who were sexist by default), so it’s really not all that hard to say ‘this didn’t actually happen and artemis would never do that bc, let’s be honest, who wants to read about someone who is this undoubtedly horrific?’

the pjo series is all about that. like, the idea that the greek gods could be children’s characters is practically unthinkable. so much of their personalities and behavior is watered down and reshaped to make it kid friendly. plenty of the myths are scoffed at by the gods themselves within the series, hercules whines about his disney movie being bad, our heroes can mouth off quite a bit without facing half the consequences ancient greeks did. the gods are imperfect in the series because they’re just too much of a moral basket case to totally fix up, and the heroes deal with the ramifications of that (that’s literally…what the series is about), but certain issues need more sensitivity than others and homophobia is definitely one of them. i really liked pjo artemis. i thought she was great. now her whole character is ruined for me. i really don’t see why it was necessary to present her as this badass patron goddess for desperate girls and then turn her into this mess down the road. and that’s all on rick.

which is like, not to even mention that the core of artemis really is protecting women and defending them from men, even if some of her myths are…bad. so i just think it’s a bad interpretation of her to assume she would have any problems with her hunters dating each other, and i don’t actually see what the connection here is to why the hunt exists and why lesbians can’t date and still be part of it. it’s like “artemis, artemis, my dad is trying to sell me to a husband three times my age that i don’t want to marry, can i join your hunt??” “yes, of course, that’s what i’m here for!” “okay cool! i have a crush on this other girl in your hunt, we’re gonna start dating.” “UM NO THAT’S NOT ALLOWED WE DON’T LIKE ROMANCE DIDN’T YOU TAKE THE OATH.”

like, obviously that’s just plain and simple homophobia but what i actually mean is that there’s really no reason that artemis should be homophobic and i can’t think of a good reason for any writer, including rick, to write her that way when it makes a lot less sense for her to be. lots of lesbians identified with artemis.

in short: emmie and jo are great, artemis and the hunt are butchered and there was no good reason to do that other than to make emmie and jo suffer and/or laziness on rick’s part and that sucks, also if THIS is the only lesbian representation we get in all of rick’s books out of all the main characters who could be (and are, whether he knows it or not) lesbians, i will be furious. like yeah it’s great that emmie and jo exist but 1. they’re side characters 2. you don’t have to introduce brand new characters to have more lesbians like hello didn’t you get the memo when all of us lost our minds over nico coming out?? you can do that more than once you know……reyna and rachel are RIGHT THERE,

thehallowedangel  asked:

Victor: "You keep clutching your stomach, are you okay?" Yurio: "I'm going to be sick..." They are on the ice, practicing and Yurio cannot get anywhere conventional in time, so as much a Victor tries to stop him, he just skates precariously over to the side of the rink and holds onto the sides and throws up onto the floor on the other side of the bariers. Bonus points if he actually can't get anything up so Victor gives up stopping him and goes to help instead. (Also hi, btw, I felt brave~)

WELL HELLO! Pleasure to see such a lovely request! It’s so detailed and amazing. I couldn’t wait to write it. I wrote this at like… 11 or 12 at night and just added the ending this morning. I THINK IT’S A BIT DECENT EVEN IF ITS SHORT! I hope you like it! -Bridget

Skepticism ate away at Viktor Nikiforov’s head.

Something was off. Completely off.

Movements that used to come so easy to Yurio looked like they caused him immense pain.

As he skated, the blonde’s skin seemed to retain a worrying pallor. He looked like he was trembling despite the sweat that collected on his forehead.

Yurio skid to a stop, placing one hand over his stomach, the other pressing against his back.

“Yurio… You look unwell, are you alright?” Viktor asked, skating over to the blonde.

The young Russian nodded, swallowing thickly “Yeah, I just think I ate something that’s not agreeing with me.” He said, pulling his hands away and moving one as if brushing off the statement

Viktor did not believe this in the slightest. “You’re messing up your routines.” He points out, knowing Yurio well enough to know how much Yurio seemed to work through.

“Yeah, yeah I know… Sorry… Let me try this again.” He asked, throat tight with a constricting nausea that burned the back of his throat.

He felt terrible. Absolutely terrible. But skating was everything to him. He wasn’t going to bail unless he physically couldn’t fight back the acid trying to rise up his throat any longer.

He was exhausted beyond words. And had a dizzying headache that did his uneasy stomach no justice.

He felt ready to pass out, throw up. Or both, in all truth.

But his pride and dedication overpowered that. So, he took off, ready to resume his routine.

Running on pure willpower and adrenaline, he managed to land his jumps and spins the way they should be.

But when he finished his routine, he immediately knew he was in for complete hell.

One hand pressed firmly to his stomach, the other covered his mouth to stifle a sick hiccup.

Oh this can’t be good…

He tilted his head back, focusing on the roof of the rink. Deep breaths, that was his only hope.

And uncomfortable heat settled over Yurio like a wet blanket. It was suffocating and dizzying and just made his nausea worse.

“Yurio?” Viktor questioned, concerned “Come here.”

Damn you Viktor, Yurio thought.

But he forced himself over to Viktor, hand never leaving his stomach.

“You keep clutching your stomach, are you sure you’re okay?” Viktor questions, slimming the four foot difference between them by getting closer.

“I think I’m gonna be sick…” Yurio mumbled, covering his mouth again

Viktor gave a worried look. But Yurio wasn’t under it long.

He couldn’t get to the bathroom. But despite that, he knew he was going to throw up.

His stomach churned an his mouth started to fill excessively with coppery saliva.

He dug his blades into the ice, tearing his skate into the ice and taking off.

Viktor, assuming he was going into a new routine, reached out to stop him. But Yurio was too fast.

The blonde Russian got to the barrier, coughing out saliva as he gripped the edges of the barrier.

He put so much strain on his body in practice that it made the contents of his stomach taunt and threaten him but never reappear or give him the relief he so desperately needed.

Forceful retches were long unproductive. His back arched and he kept leaning forward, stabilizing himself only by gripping the edge of the barrier.

His throat was being ripped raw and his head was spinning, trying desperately to catch his breath or gain some sort of relief. Anything.

Someone’s hands are on his back and one is wrapped around his abdomen to keep him up.

Whoever was steadying him put pressure on his stomach. And just like that, everything unraveled.

Painfully so, his dinner made an unappealing reappearance.

The thick liquid spilled past his lips and landed to the ground with a disgusting splatter, one that made even Viktor’s stomach turn despite his, as always, excellent health (Yurio often wondered if Viktor EVER got sick)

Viktor brushed back stray stands of hair that fell to Yurio’s face as the younger continuously brought up the food in his system.

The blonde skipped breakfast, only drinking some Gatorade before heading to the rink.

Which was why Viktor was so stunned fifteen minutes later when Yurio’s spell of vomiting wasn’t letting up much.

Yurio weighed less than a hundred pounds, standing at five foot four. He always burned off what he ate through skating. And by now, Viktor felt that Yurio had thrown up half his body weight.

All truth in play, that was scientifically impossible. But with how much Yurio was throwing up… Well…

When the spell tapered into dry heaving at the half hour mark, Yurio was panting heavily, coughing and spitting into the mess on the ground.

“Viktor…” Yurio said, voice nearly completely gone from the forceful spell “Can I stop training for the day… Please…”

Viktor chuckled softly “You must be delirious if you think i would let you practice in this condition.”

Yurio offered a weak smile, but holy hell was he tired.

He must’ve swayed on his feet, because he felt a hand press against his spine.

“Stay awake little brother,” Viktor says quietly “I’ve got you.”

anonymous asked:

It's been the worst 2 weeks of my life and you're one of my favorite writers, and you said you were taking prompts but I am scare that that's done so please my guy if you're up for it, MAS raising Luffy??? You don't have to if you don't wanna, thank you for your time

Sorry about taking so long? i am here!

Luffy sniffs, whining as his head throbs and his throat aches, curling into himself on the bed in the nurse’s office. It was gross and sticky and Luffy wanted to go home.

“He’s in here,” Luffy peeks from underneath the blankets as Ace stumbles into the room, his uniform messy. “We’ve made sure to give him plenty of liquids and kept an eye on him.”

“Thanks,” Ace says smiling politely at the nurse. “Lu, are you alright?”

“I don’t feel good,” Luffy whines holding his arms out of his hiding place. “I wanna go home, Acey.”

Ace makes a sad noise, lifting Luffy into his arms, “Okay baby, it’s okay. We’ll go home and make Sabo and Marco pick up soup and something other than water to drink. Some juice maybe.”

Luffy sniffles, hiding his face against Ace’s neck, “An-” He sneezes. “Sorry Acey.”

“It’s okay,” Ace sighs, wiping his neck clean. “Come on baby, let’s get you home.”

“Thank you, Acey.”

Ace runs a hand down Luffy’s back thanking the nurse and quickly escaping the school.

“I think I was too much of a horrible student,” Ace whispers to Luffy as he buckles him into the carseat. “They all remember me and keep trying to talk to me about things. I don’t like it.”

“Home now, Acey?”

“That’s right baby, we’re going to go home,” Ace pulls the blanket that Luffy left in the car that morning up over him. “Comfy?”

“Warm,” Luffy mutters almost hidden under the blanket, “Like warm, Acey.”

“How is he?” Marco asks leaning back in his chair. “It sounded pretty bad when the office called.”

“He’s not coughing, I don’t know why they said he was, but he’s sick. Sneezing and burning up but he’s not having any issues with coughing. Think you can get ahold of Sabo and pick up some soup? I don’t think Luffy’s going to let me move when we get back to he house.”

“I don’t think he will either. I’m sorry that I couldn’t get out of work to get him myself.”

Ace laughs, “It’s fine, Marco. The Chief wasn’t going to keep me at work when Luffy was that sick. And you have that meeting with the investor. Has he gotten there yet?”

“He’s meeting with Oyaji first and then with me. Have you heard from Sabo yet?”

“I think he’s dead underneath the books in the library. I’ve sent a text to Koala to see if she has seen him and possibly dig him out of the mess he’s buried under.”

Marco laughs, “Thank you. I sent Izo out to get some sports drinks and extra medicine since I couldn’t get out of work.”

“Thank you, Marco!” Ace says brightly. “I don’t think we have any good liquid for Luffy to drink beyond water and some juice.”

“I’ll come home as soon as I’m done with this meeting. See you in a few hours.”

“See you.”

“Acey, when are Sab and Co gonna come home?” Luffy asks.

Ace hums, shifting to let Luffy lay on his chest, “Marco will be home as soon as his meeting is over, that’s why Izo brought you juice and medicine. Sabo will be home as soon as he can.”

“Thank you for coming to pick me up, Acey.”

“Of course I was gonna come pick you up, baby. Did you think I was gonna let you stay at school all day sick?”

“Dragon-dad did.”

“Well, I’m not Dragon. If we can’t get there right away we will be there soon. You know Marco,” Ace whispers tapping Luffy’s nose. “Actually asked if I could get off because he would move his meeting to come and get you if I couldn’t.”

“Co was gonna do that for me?”

Ace nods, “That’s right baby. We wouldn’t make you stay at school like this.”

“Thank you for coming to get me Acey.”

“You’re in trouble,” Koala states coldly. “Your boys have been calling you for hours.”

“They have?” Sabo asks looking up from the texts that he had been almost hidden underneath. “Fuck. Luffy’s sick.”

“And Ace has already picked him up from school. You might want to head home soon to help out, apparently Luffy is extremely clingy when he’s sick.” Koala shows him the picture on her phone. “He won’t let go of Ace since they got home.”

Sabo makes a sad noise, “And I should get home now.”

“You should. Luffy thought you were going to leave him at school all day while he was sick, which is why he didn’t say he wasn’t feeling good when you all got him up this morning.”

“I’m going. Stop making me feel like a crappy parent.”

“You’re not a horrible parent, just horrible at keeping track of messages.”

“I’m going,” Sabo states hurrying out the room. “Stop saying things to me like that.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket as he hurries down the steps. “Hey, Ace?”

“You aren’t being eaten by books?” Ace teases quietly. “Sorry, Luffy’s asleep on me.”

“Do you need me to pick up anything?”

“Soup? Luffy won’t eat anything and we don’t have any soup since we all got sick three months ago and haven’t purchased more.”

“I can do that. Have you heard from Marco?”

Ace hums, “Finishing up his meeting and then coming home.”

“I should be there in thirty minutes, I’m sorry that I didn’t answer my phone. I was just so distracted.”

“You should be, pay more attention Sabo. Luffy thought he had to stay a school when he was sick.”

“And I’m the only one of us with a really flexible schedule,” Sabo sighs.

“It’s fine, we’re still learning to be his dads, it’s a work in progress,” Ace yawns. “See you when you get home?”

“See you soon.”

“Still sleeping?” Marco asks sliding in the front door as Ace steps out the kitchen.

“All cuddled up on the couch with Sabo. We are all going to catch this cold,” Ace agrees brightly. “I am so glad that I have so much sick leave saved up.”

Marco nods, “But he’s alright?”

“He’s fine, shocked everytime that he wakes up and it turns out that we’re actually here with him, but he’s fine.”

“I’ll go see him then,” Marco agrees kissing Ace’s cheek. “Thank you for picking him up from school.”

“You’re welcome, go tell Luffy that you’re home.”

Marco grins, “I will.”

Sabo waves from the couch, Luffy sprawled over him as he looks over his paper, “Hey, you’re back.”

“Meeting was easy to finish after I mentioned that my son was sick,” Marco whispers kissing Sabo. “How’s he doing?”

“Tired. Hasn’t eaten much, but he’s okay.”

“That’s good,” Marco grins brushing Luffy’s hair back from his face, “Sorry I couldn’t come and pick you up from school, buddy.”


“That’s right.”

“You came home early,” Luffy mumbles blinking at him in confusion. “You and Acey and Sab all came home.”

“Of course we did, Luffy. You’re sick, we’re not going to leave you at school all day. I was worried about you.”

Luffy hides his face, “Dragon-dad never did that for me.”

“Well, we aren’t him, remember?”

“I remember.”

“Go back to sleep, okay? We’ll wake you up in a little bit for dinner, okay?”

“Mhm kay, Co,” Luffy yawns, cuddling under his blanket. “I never had dads that came home when I was sick before,” He whispers to his bear and Marco fights down the urge to track Dragon down and punch him in the face. “I like them better than Dragon-dad.”

"Recovered" - Kurt/Blaine

letshaveagleeki prompted: “What would I have to give you to get a follow up to “stranded”? Like it could take place the next day with Kurt being hungover or something and he’s kind of embarrassed by how he acted around Blaine and acts all apologetic and it just gets really cute and adorable.”

[drunk!Kurt meets sexiled Blaine here]

And now, the morning after, featuring hungover!Kurt :D (Warning: mentions of getting sick but nobody does it)

~1200 words | AO3

Kurt wakes up on the floor in the hallway of his dorm, and he aches.

He’s dying. He knows it. The ugly popcorn molding on the ceiling spins slowly, making itself into lumpy circles that look like cookie batter in a mixer. The overhead lights are – well, they weren’t this bright yesterday, Kurt is sure of it, and they certainly weren’t trying to burn his eyeballs out of his head the way they are now. He shuts his eyes to stop it, and the dizziness fades a little, but it doesn’t stop the pressure building between his temples.

He turns his head to his left, and when his cheek hits something warm and denim-covered, he opens his eyes again.

Oh. That’s a crotch.

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notenoughgatorade  asked:

squints eyes >.> okkk 16 zimbits. but i'm like,yelling

i assure u this is all a v important part of the creative process i ASSURE YOU

July in Georgia has Jack relieved that he hadn’t entertained talks with the Lightning reps who’d contacted his agent. He’s only ever been to Florida in the season, and it had been a humid mess then. He’s not sure he could handle that on top of the oppressive heat seeping like bathwater through his clothes.

The Bittles seem immune to it; Bitty’s wearing a riff on his Spring C outfit that’s really – but Suzanne is wearing a cotton button-down and denim shorts just like Jack, and she looks perfectly content while she drives with the window rolled to pick up a breeze.

Jack and Bitty have to share the one-and-a-half sized passenger seat of the minivan because the back rows are already packed for, from what Jack can tell, at least one fair, two parades, and a fireworks show in which the Bittle family are integral. The warmth of Bitty’s skin against Jack’s side, all along his side from shoulder to ankle, should be too much. Jack is sweaty and hot, but he’ll risk heat stroke before he moves an inch closer to the door.


The fair is that day, but Suzanne takes pity on Jack and drives them to her home so he can borrow one of Bitty’s bigger shirts out of a lighter fabric.

By the grace of god, their house is air conditioned, and when Bitty leads Jack to his bedroom, Jack blames the rise of hair on his arms and chest on the chill as he slips out of his shirt.

“Here,” Bitty huffs, tossing a light, worn t-shirt at Jack. “It’s from summer camp a while back. Coach ordered a large ‘cause he thought I might grow into it.”

Jack struggles into it, forgetting to breathe when Bitty mentions he’s really only ever slept in it. When he finally works it on, the shoulders are too tight to even right the bottom, and he lets his arms dangle at his sides. A forlorn look at Bittle, and suddenly they’re both laughing.

“Alright, no sleeves. I can work with that. I think I have some old pinnies around here,” he rambles, spinning around to find the right dresser.

“Uh, Bittle – “ Jack splutters, grabbing at the collar with either hand but missing with both by inches. The bottom rides halfway up his stomach, and maybe Jack stretches a little more than necessary, but mostly he’s chuckling inanely.

Hands on his hips, Bitty’s lips quiver with the effort of maintaining his stern frown as he says, “Mr. Zimmermann, you are helpless.”

Then Bitty is right up against him, fingers against his skin and whole body leaning against his for balance, hiking the t-shirt up until even his reach on tip-toe isn’t high enough.

Jack isn’t laughing anymore. Not when Bitty says, “Bend over,” and finishes the job.

“Now, this’ll be a little short, but crop tops are in this season,” he says, chipper as ever.

“You really haven’t forgiven me for am practices, have you?”


Suzanne wants a picture of the two of them, and even though it’s Bitty who backs up until he’s under Jack’s arm, Jack is the one whose hand rests in Bitty’s hair and whose eyes – of which there’s photographic evidence – don’t leave Bitty’s smile.

Bitty has a baby cousin, and she adores Jack. Her mother doesn’t let strangers hold her, but every time Jack is out of her sight, she wails hard enough to break his heart. She becomes Bitty’s responsibility, and unless Jack wants a dozen drunk parents’ and grandparents’ buzz killed by a caterwauling toddler, especially when they know who to blame, he has to spend the night glued to Bitty’s hip. Peek-a-boo and patty-cake are definitely a hardship – and that’s not taking the baby into account – but Jack’s had worse nights.

There’s a bluegrass concert that devolves into a jam band, and Bitty wants to dance. Jack never learned whatever step he’s doing, but Bitty’s a good, encouraging lead, and his laugh sets off the rhythm of the washboard perfectly. The hand on his hip every time they spin back together is small, but it’s steady and solid.

It’s a terrible holiday.


Bitty drives him back to the airport, and Jack spends the ride with his elbow out the open window and the open palm of his other hand outstretched between them. The weight of his tongue against the roof of his mouth is oppressive; he feels sick with how much he wishes he weren’t leaving Bitty behind when he boards his flight.

Even worse, every time he’s had the chance to say it and let the opportunity pass drags him down. He feels tethered to every moment this trip when he held back, and now he’s so securely anchored there’s no way to move forward without sinking.

Bitty parks even though it’ll end up costing about forty dollars for less than an hour so he can walk Jack to the gate. Their elbows brush on the walk, and just when Jack thinks his lungs are about to burst, Bitty stops cold and pulls Jack’s bags out of his grip.

“What’s – “ His duffels thud uselessly on the ground; Bitty rushes him before he can distinguish wish from reality.

Jack hasn’t ever been hugged quite like this. Shitty’s always been about brotherly affection, and his parents aren’t stingy with embraces or kisses on his cheek. But with Eric’s arms around his waist and his head tucked under Jack’s chin, Jack feels like he was made to be held this way.

Even better, when he holds Bitty’s shoulders, he feels like maybe Bitty was made for Jack to hold him.

“Don’t you dare be a stranger, Jack,” Bitty sniffles.

He tightens his arms and buries his nose in the cowlick at the crown of Bitty’s head.

“You’re never gonna get rid of me, you know that?”

If Jack kisses Bitty’s hair, he’s the only one who’ll ever know.

“I’m glad.”

To Poe: Hi. It’s Finn.

You told me to write you a letter. Sorry it took this long. We leave for RGE-67 in fifteen hours and I guess the adrenaline’s finally got my ass in gear. Also I don’t think I’m very good at writing letters. Not sure what’s right to say and what isn’t. So I guess I’ll just say a bunch of true things and hope one of em sticks.

1. I think I love you.
2. I think I’m not supposed to.
3. I didn’t know it would be a problem but there’s a lot of things I don’t know. About this kind of thing, about everything. About being a person. All I know is you haven’t looked at me or hugged me or anything for like three weeks and the only reason is if you figured out how I feel and you don’t want it. Which is okay. You don’t have to give me anything.
4. It’s bullshit that you didn’t just talk to me about this. Sorry but it is.
5. It really sucks to miss a person who’s right next to you.
6. I’m scared for tomorrow. I’m scared that I’ll mess up and they’ll catch me. I’m scared that you’ll die. I’m scared that I’ll die. I’m scared that I’ll fail. I know it’s a war and things happen. But you said it was normal to be scared and I am so scared. I am so scared all the time, Poe.
7. You wanna know something really sick? I’m not even that scared of torture. If they catch me, I mean. That’s a terrible thing to say to you of all people, I know, but it’s true. When I have nightmares about them catching me again I’m not scared that they’ll make me bleed. I’m scared that they’ll recondition me. Wipe my brain clean so I don’t remember anything. I don’t want to forget. Poe. I don’t want to forget any of this.
8. I wasn’t a good Stormtrooper. I hope I am better at being a person.
9. If I die tomorrow that’s how I wanna be remembered. Ok? Promise me that. Promise me I’ll be remembered as a person. In the First Order they leave dead Troopers behind on the battlefield. Or dump them out the airlock if they’re hurt too bad. But Snap told me if someone dies you have a ceremony. Burn them or bury them or sing them up into the stars. I don’t care what you do with my body. Burn me, bury me. But call me Finn while you do it.
10. I think I started loving you the second you gave me that name.
11. So you don’t have to give me anything else. I mean it. That was enough.
12. My name is Finn.
13. I am a person.
14. I love. I love. I love.
the five times dan missed phil the most

word count; 1.6k
warnings; alcohol, vomit, swearing, mentions of sex, pda, depression, dependency
synopsis; exactly what the title is nice
a/n; hello here is a short dumb 5 times fic. it’s kind of choppy but whatever hope u enjoy

i wrote a sequel that no one asked for: the five times phil missed dan the most

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fight pt. 2 | Jumin Han

(a/n: So here’s part two:) It was really fun writing it and also this is the last part of this Imagine:) I hope you like it! Again, I apologize for any writing mistakes xx)

part 1 | Masterlist| Requests| Ask me anything

summary: After Jumin left for work you felt miserable and you had to have a serious talk when he’d return.


You didn’t get much sleep the following night. You tossed and turned under the bedsheets, your body felt like it was set on fire.                                                You couldn’t get yourself to sleep, no matter what you did. All you could think about was the argument that took place in this room just a few hours ago.       You could still feel his cold gaze, how his dark eyes looked at you. You couldn’t find any trace of amusement in his dark orbs.                                                   You could still hear the heartbreaking words that slipped out of his mouth.

I’m sleeping on the couch tonight. I hope you’re back to normal till tomorrow morning. You know how much I hate sleeping on the couch.

God, he really hated sleeping on the couch, you thought to yourself.         

The last time he had to move his sleeping place onto your newly bought sofa, was when you catched a serious cold. Jumin had to fly to Italy the following morning for some business and you refused to let him sleep in the same bed as you. Where all your germs were distributed around you and he could get infected.

You rememberd the day like it was yesterday. How his pleeding gaze bore into your skin, how his eyes filles with worry and adoration and how your heart filled itself with pure love for this man. He was really worried about you. Overall he was a really protective man who wantet to protect his precious family at all costs. But now, you felt like all of this has changed.

How could he not care about the well being of his daughter?                           You didn’t care about Hawon anymore. But what made you furious was that Jumin simply refused to listen to you. He didn’t even asked about Minah specificly and tried to make you the bad guy.

As you stared at the bedroom ceiling you grabbed the sheet tightly between your fingers.                                                                                                               Now it was almost 8 AM. You only got 3 hours of sleep and you felt like you just drank four bottles of the expensive wine Jumin liked to purchase.                    You rolled on your side. Every muscle in your body hurt. Your face burned because of the tears that finally slipped out of your eyes after Jumin left you alone. At the foot of your bed, little Elizabeth 3rd nestled her furry body against your legs. Jumin must have let her in.

You frowned. He left already.                                                                                Now you remembered. Jumin always left your house at 7 AM so he must have grabbed one of his suits out of his closet before he left for work. He didn’t dare to wake you up. But it was pretty predictable. At work Jumin didn’t hesistate to confront the CEO’s or business men when he tried to set up a new deal for a project. But at home it was the opposite. He tried to avoid any confrontation of any kind at all costs. Sure, sometimes he couldn’t prevent it. But most of the time he acted like a little kid who didn’t want to be scolded by his mother.           But you tolerated his behaviour. You didn’t want to start a fight just because he forgot to turn on the dishwasher or he left you alone with your kids because a important call came in, so he had to rush to work.

But now you could slap yourself for all the times you said: “It’s okay, don’t worry” On the inside you tried to control your anger. This behaviour wasn’t healthy. Not for you, not for Jumin and especially not for your marriage.


After some time you finally decided to get up.                                                  There was no point in staying in bed all day long because Jumin decided to act like an complete asshole.                                                                                      After you washed yourself up and changed into some comfortable clothes, you called in sick at your work. You didn’t feel well enough to squeeze yourself back into those uncomfortable high heels, do left over paperwork and probably meet with new clients. Also you had to check on Minha. After what Hawon did yesterday, you didn’t want to leave her alone with your sick child.

You decided to make Minha a light breakfast, she must be really hungry and exhausted.                                                                                                             So after you prepared some cereal and made her a cup of tea, you approched her bedroom.

“Minha? Are you awake?”, you asked, knocking at the wooden door of her bedroom.

“Yes Mommy, come in”, she answeres, her voice was cracking and she sounded sniffy.                                                                                                                “Good morning”, you put on a bright smile and carried the traywith Minha’s breakfast into her room. “How are you feeling, Honey?”

“A bit better”, she answered, another cough coming out of her lungs. “Mommy I'm hot”

“I know, I’m sorry”, you said.                                                                            Seeing your little one in this state, made you feel terrible. There wasn’t much you could do but you simply wanted to make her illness dissapear. It killed you inside that you didn’t have the power to do that.

“Here”, you said and put the tray on her nightstand next to her bed. “I made you some breakfast. Eat up. You want to get well soon, don’t you?”

“Yes Mommy!”, she said and sat up.                                                                   You were glad that Minha felt a little bit better. Last night you were afraid you had to call an ambulance. You knew you were probably overacting, but your kids were never seriously ill exept for chickenpox, so it was all still knew to you.       You simply missed Jumin’s help.


“Mommy? Is Daddy already at work?”, she asked as you helped her sip at her tea.                                                                                                                       On the cup were pictured of various cartoon charakters like Bambi or Aurora, her favourites.

You swallowed. By the mention of your husband your muscles tensed up.           “Yes Honey”, you answered and saw how her face fell. “He’ll be back this afternoon”                                                                                                             Minha didn’t say anything after that. She just sipped her lemontea in peace while you read her something from one of her favourite books.

It made your heart hurt when you sae how sad she looked after you told her that Jumin left already. She wanted her Daddy here. Sure, you knew what to do to nurse her till she felt better. But she wanted to be held in her father’s arms. She wanted him to read her a bedtime story, to ask her how she was and to tell her lame jokes she still laughed over only because it was her Daddy. Minha has always been a Daddy’s girl while Jimin clinged more onto you.

“Try to get some sleep okay?”, you said and removed some of her hair that fell onto her forehead. “I promise, Daddy will be back when you wake up”

“Are you sure he wants to see me?”, she asked, her big doe eyes pierced into yours. Your heart clenched. Her words hurt and you just wanted to call Jumin, scream at him and tell him that his daughter feels miserable because her father wasn’t there. He really messed up this time.

“Of course, Baby!”, you ressured her and pulled up her covers under her chin. “There was just an emergency at work and he had to rush to work. I promise he’s going to see you when he comes home”                                                      Minha nodded. You had the feeling she wasn’t really believing your words.

“Try to get some sleep”, you planted a kiss on the top of Minha’s head and left her bedroom, the tray with the empty dishes in your hands.


At 7 PM you still waited for Jumin. You left him dozens of text messages on his phone and called him hundreds of times. But he won’t answer and didn’t pick up.

What an asshole, you thought.

You couldn’t keep your promise to Minha. Three hours ago she woke up, called for you and asked if her father finally returned. It broke your heart to tell your daughter the message, that Jumin was still at work.                                         You watched as her big eyes filled with tears that threatened to fall down her cheeks. It took you almost one hour to comfort her. Now she was up in her room, playing with her dolls while Jimin sat in the living room with some of his toys. You could hear his happy squeks and loud voice while he played with his little toy trucks.

You on the other hand, distracted yourself with some chores. Sure, Jumin and your household had a lot of electronic devices that could make things easier. You also had a maid, that would come by at the weekends and would help cleaning the house. But you liked to do things the traditional way. Jumin liked to solve things with money but that wasn’t your style.              

Right now you were busy with cleaning the dishes when you suddendly heard keys jiggling in the door. That could only be Jumin.

What is he doing at home this early?

Sure, you prayed that he would return soon but you didn’t expect that it would actually happen.

“Hey little one”, you heard his voice in the living room.                                  Suddendly your heart started beating rapidly against your chest. You breathed in and out before you set the wet plate aside and dried your hands with a towel.

“What are you doing all by yourself huh?”, he asked Jimin and you looked around the corner. You watched as Jumin kneeled infront of the 3 year old, his briefcade rested against your couch and he started to play a bit with the little car toys that Jimin kept himself busy with.

“Mommy is in the kitchen”, Jimin said and showed him a big smile. “Can you play with me Daddy? Look, I have bought all my cars here. You can have this one!”                                                                                                                    Jimin handed his father a little replica of a white Lamborgini. Jimin was especially proud of this one. Jumin gave it to him on his thirs birthday.

Jumin played a bit with the little toy in his hands.                                                   “Later okay?”, he said and looked down to his flesh and blood. “I’ll have to talk to Mommy first”

“Okay, Daddy”, Jimin nodded and Junin ruffled his dark hair. “But hurry!”

Jumin giggled and kissed the top of Jimin’s head.                                                He stood up, smoothed out his dress pants and made his way into the kitchen.

Like you were struck by a lightning, you rushed to your previous position infront of the sink and pretended like you were still cleaning the dirty dishes.              You heard his heavy steps beside you. The soles of his expensive and polished shoes stride over the white marbel floors.You felt his tall presence behind you. His body towered over yours and you were curious what he would do now.

“Y/N?”, he asked carefully.

“Yes, Jumin?”, you answered after some time,tried to be cold. You wanted him to know that you were seriously mad at him. But you didn’t want to break out into a fight when your child was in the next room.

“I’m…I’m sorry Y/N”, he apologized and your eyes widened. You were totally caught off guard. Jumin never apologized this quickly. Usually you had to wait one or two days till he would say sorry.

“What?”, you asked perplex and turned around.

Jumin’s hand sunk into his black hair and he bit onto his bottom lip nervously. It was really not like him.

“I want to apologize”, he said and took a step closer to you. “What I did was utterly wrong.” Jumin placed his strong hands on your shoulders, you blushed.

You were married to Jumin since 8 years. But he still had this effect on you. He made your heart beat ten times faster just because he looked at you. Besides your kids, he was the one that made you happy like no one else could. Sure, sometimes he really was an idiot but you still loved him with every piece of you.

“I know I shouldn’t have acted like that”, he said and gripped your shoulderblades. You swallowed and gripped your hands tightly.                      “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry that I just left instead of talking with you about this and I’m sorry that I went to work this morning. I should’ve stayed”

“Jumin-”, you started but he interrupted you.

“How’s Minha? God I didn’t even check on her”, he closed his eyes tightly. You’ve never seen your husband like this. He looked like he was about to cry. The last times he shed a few tears was at the birth of your children.

“Jumin, hey”, you cooed. You took his hands off of your shoulders and gripped them tightly. That made him look at you. “She’s fine”, you said but sighed a second later.                                                                                                     “She asked for you, but I had to tell her you were at work. She really wants to see you Jumin”

Again he closed his eyes. He probably hated himself now. But you couldn’t blame him because he deserved it. But still, you felt bad to see your husband suffer like this.

“I messed up, didn’t I?”, he asked, his pleading look pierced into yours. You simple nodded. “Jumin, we can’t go on like this”

Jumin lifted up his head. In his eyes gleamed pure worry and he gripped your hands tighter. So tight it almost hurt.                                                                  “What do you mean?”, he asked and you bid the inside of your cheek.

“The only thing that you do is working. Work here, work there. I don’t even see you anymore Jumin.”, you said. “We miss you. Your kids miss you…I miss you” Your voice became desperate and you were afraid you would start to cry.         “We leave our children alone with a babysitter. A babysitter that can’t do her job well. Instead of looking after them ourselves we give then into the hands of a young girl that didn’t even call us when our kid got sick and almost burned down our house that one time, Jumin”

Jumin didn’t say anything. He just listened and you were glad about that.             “I’m gonna take a break from work”, you announced and his eyes widened. “And I’ll fire Hawon. I don’t want her near my kids ever again” You avoided his eyes.

 His dark orbs looked at you intensively, and you could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. You felt like a heavy load was liftet up from your shoulders. It has been a long time since you poured your heart out to Jumin like this.

You waited nervously for an answer.                                                                   But insted you felt how this strong arms wrapped around your body. He nestled his face into the crock of your neck and you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

“Fire her”, he agreed. “I’m so sorry Y/N. Again, I can’t tell you enough how sorry I am. What husband treats his wife and children like this? God I’m terrible”

You shook your head and buried your fingers into his back.                             “You’re not terrible. The kids still love you. I still love you. You just have to understand your priorities. And your priority is your family”

Jumin nodded. “I know. I’m gonna take a break from work too. I want to keep you three as happy as possible. And I can only do that when I give my whole attention to you”                                                                                                     He took your face into his hands and planted a delicate kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you.”, he said and you felt your knees go weak. “And I love our kids. Minha and Jumin are the best things that could’ve happened to me. And of cours, marrying you was the best desicion I ever made”. Again he planted a kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you”, you blurted out and he smirked.

“I love you too”, he said. “Go, have a rest. I’ll do the dirty dishes. You’ve alredy done enough”                                                                                                         You nodded and left a kiss on his lips. God you loved kissing him. His lips were always so soft and his kisses were like a drug. You couldn’t get enough of him.

“Minha is still in her room?”, he asked and started to loosen his tie.                 “Yeah”, you nodded and leaned against your marble counter.                           “I’ll check on her”, he said and after you nodded he left the kitchen.

Jumin Han was a idiot. But he was your idiot. Sure, sometimes he messes up, but that doesn’t mean you didn’t love him any less. You didn’t marry this big goofball without a reason. Jumin loved to spoil you. He liked to buy you expensive designer dresses, diamond earrings and liked to take you on extravagant trips. But the best present that he could’ve give you were your two children. Who loved him as much as you did.

You were deep in thought when you suddendly heard Jimin’s voice pearcing through your house.

“Dad! You said you’ll play with me!”, the little boy shouted. “Dad!”

You smiled to yourself and tried to contain your laughter.


(a/n: I hope you liked it:) If you have any requests just leave a message xx)

anonymous asked:

Halloween prompt! 'we team up for the couples contest every year as friends, but this year you're with someone else and I'm definitely Not Jealous and Not Realizing feelings'

Here’s what you have to understand: it wasn’t just a matter of pride.

It was that Bellamy was messing with tradition. Their tradition. And it left Clarke with a sick, gnawing feeling at the pit of her stomach that she couldn’t find a name for.

(Well, the feeling was in fact jealousy, but she’d rather lodge sticks under her nails then admit that out loud.)

“Whoa,” Monty goes, upon their arrival. His eyes widen comically as he takes her in. “Wait, you and Bellamy aren’t competing in the couples costume contest this year?”

She manages a jerky shrug of her shoulder, swiping the bottle of beer from his grip and taking a swig. “Nope,” she says, popping the p with an exaggerated twist of her mouth. “Someone decided to forgo tradition this year so he could play dress up with his new beau.”

“You’re kidding.” Monty says, disbelief clear in his voice. “Seriously?”

She snorts, crossing her arms over her chest. “See for yourself. There’s Mario and Luigi. Or Bellamy and Bryan.”

There’s a beat as Monty considers them, brow furrowed and mouth agape. Then, thoughtfully, “Huh. Has anyone ever told them that they look freakishly alike?”

“That’s what I said!” Clarke huffs, slamming the bottle down on the nearest empty surface. “And I was like, isn’t it weird that you’re dating someone who looks exactly like yourself, Bellamy? And he’s all like,” she deepens her voice in a terrible approximation of his voice, “don’t be stupid, Clarke. We look nothing alike. Besides, I’m just doing Miller a favor.”

Monty makes a sympathetic noise at that. “If it makes you feel any better, I think you would have made a much more convincing Luigi.”

“I know.” She grumbles, eyeing Bryan discerningly. “I would have rocked that moustache.”

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