this shit takes me all my afternoon '

The Foxes As Texts I've Sent

Neil: just ate breakfast and we’re about to do a 10km flat track walk at 8am wbu

Andrew: bring me back a coffee and choccy croissant u fuck 

Kevin: join me on facebook as i livestream myself jumping off a fucking cliff

Matt: text me back ive been waiting since october 

Aaron: if i hear my cousin play bop it one more time i will rip out my own throat

Dan: the kids on this bus are playing nine in the afternoon v quietly and i want to punch someone just fucking blast that shit 

Allison: when a bitch wants to glow let her glow fuck you snapchat don’t make the eyes bigger make that highlight pop 

Renee: i’m convinced god wants me dead but it will take a lot more than that to kill me tough guy

Nicky: ich hate meinself i don’t know the translation sorry

Behind The Album - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 6)

Originally posted by inkedcross

Part 5 

“Don’t you even fucking think about it,” you said pointing to your boyfriend. 

“What?” He asked innocently. 

“You know exactly what. Just because this camera is waterproof doesn’t fucking mean you can just push me off this board and into the ocean,” you said. “Besides I’m working remember? We’re supposed to be professional.” 

“You say that yet it’s hard to be professional when you’re wearing that,” he said. 

“Cause I’m gonna wear actual clothes while I’m in the ocean, yeah that sounds like a good idea,” you said. “Maybe you should learn how to control yourself.” 

“You’re just so… fucking hot,” he smirked. 

“You do realize I’m recording, right?” You said. “I’m going to have a lot of editing to do.” 

He laughed pushing himself back up on the board. “We’ll just keep it for  ourselves.”

You rolled your eyes. “Anyway, go back to acting like I’m not here, so I can actually use this footage.” 

“You’re so bossy,” he smirked. “It’s actually a bit of a turn on.” 

“Again? Really, if you keep talking, I’m adding this in and everyone will see,” you smirked. 

“You wouldn’t,” he said looking over at you. 

“Oh, I would,” you smirked kicking the board and causing him to fall off. 

**

Harry’s album was officially complete. He finally felt good with everything and in honor to celebrate, you all were going to have a listening party at the house. He got a chef to cook an amazing full-on Jamaican spread for dinner and you all gathered around with some drinks to listen to it after dinner. 

“Um, before we give this thing a listen, I just wanted to say a few things first,” he coughed. “I want to thank all of you for being here and putting your own lives on pause for over two months, so that I- we could make something I’m extremely proud of. The time I’ve spent here has been some of the greatest memories and best times of my life and you all are apart of that, so thank you.” 

“Thanks, buddy,” Jeff said. “Although, I’m sure Y/N has more do with that, then any of us,” he joked. 

He laughed. “She’s definitely part of it,” he smiled down at you. 

You gave him a quick kiss before he went over and pressed play. You cuddled up with Harry as you all sat around listening to it. Every so often, you’d look up and see the biggest, widest smile across Harry’s face. A part of you wanted to grab your camera and record this special moment, but you didn’t want to become Y/N, Harry Styles’ Videographer, you wanted to be Harry Styles’ girlfriend in that moment, so you stayed put and wrapped your arms around his waist. 

After the listening party, you all went your separate ways for the evening leaving you and Harry in the living room. 

“So, uh, what did you think?” He asked looking over at you. 

“Honestly?” You asked. 

“Honestly,” he nodded. 

“I… loved it,” you smiled. “It’s definitely you and you looked so happy listening to it. I’m really proud of you.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled putting his forehead against yours. “I’m really proud of it and I love it, so knowing that other people feel the same, is a great feeling to have.” 

“What would you have done if I told you I didn’t like it,” you giggled. 

“I would have been a little upset, but you’re allowed to have your own opinion and to be honest when I started making this album, I knew I wanted to make an album for myself, yeah, I want others to like and enjoy it too, but the only person I really care about liking it, is me,” he said. 

“You’re right, that’s all that should matter,” you nodded. “I think most of the time artists are trying too hard to make music that other people will like and lose who they are and what they want to be in the process.” 

“Yeah, I mean, there were times I felt like I was expected to make music that would sell, but I’m proud of all the music I’ve ever done,” he said. 

“And that’s great,” you smiled. 

He smiled laying his head on your shoulder. “You know I meant what I said about you being part of it of the reason why I had such a great time here,” he said. 

“Well, I’d hope so,” you giggled. “Or else I’d feel a little bad about myself,” you joked. 

“While we’re in London, I’d love for you to meet my family…” he whispered. “But I’d understand if you weren’t comfortable with that yet.” 

“Oh, wow,” you said. “I mean, yeah, I’d love to meet them.” 

“Really?” He asked. 

“Yeah,” you laughed. “But you know this means you’re going to have to meet mine soon as well.” 

“Yeah, I know,” he said. “Your Dad isn’t like one of those “No one is good enough for my daughter” dads is he?” 

“He’s a Dad, isn’t he? That characteristic pretty much goes hand in hand,” you laughed. 

“Well, that’s bloody wonderful,” he joked. 

“He’d only be a bit scary at first,” you said. “Then once he gets to know you, he’ll let up on the scariness.” 

He laughed. “I hope so,” he said. 

You giggled as he ran his hand up your legs. It was moments like this that made you feel giddy and the butterflies in your stomach. 

“It’s getting late, we should probably get to the room,” you whispered. “But I don’t want to move…” 

“We can just sleep out there,” he smiled pulling a blanket over the two of you. 

“Just don’t snore in my ear, and we’ll be good,” you giggled. 

“One day you’re going to miss my snoring, Y/N,” he mumbled. 

“Eh, maybe, maybe not,” you smirked. 

He rolled his eyes kissing your head before you both cuddled up against each other some more and fell asleep. 

**

Fast forward a few days later, you were now in London with Harry. You had planned on staying in a hotel, but Harry insisted on you staying with him. You asked him if he was sure since you two had only been together for a short while, but he said it was no different than living together in Jamaica and he pointed out that most nights you’d probably end up in his bed anyway. 

While that may have been true, staying with him in his house felt more…more… intimate than the house in Jamaica. The beach house wasn’t his and there were others staying in the same house, but now, you would be in Harry’s house, the one he owned, decorated, lived in, etc and it would just be the two of you. 

It felt as if your relationship was taking a huge step, not that you minded or anything, but now that you two were in the “real world” you two were going to have to figure out to separate your business relationship from your actual relationship. It also meant that you two would have to keep your relationship as private as you could. 

Which you didn’t mind because you didn’t want millions of people in your relationship, but you were worried how it might look knowing that you technically worked for him. 

Harry was taking a shower before meeting up with some of his London crew friends later in the day. You were cooking breakfast and had music playing away on your iPod. Since you knew Harry was still upstairs, you got lost in the song as you dance and sang your heart out as you cooked the omelet in the pan. 

Harry heard the music as he started down the stairs. He also heard something else and he realized it was you, singing. He had never heard you sing before and his eyes widened as he listened. You were really good especially when you hit the high note towards the end of the song. 

Harry was completely in awe of you as he watched you. When the song ended, you put the now fully cooked omelet on a plate and turned to put it on the bar, when you saw Harry standing there looking at you. 

“Uh… how long have you been there?” You asked. 

“A bit,” he smirked. 

“How much did you see?” You groaned as your cheeks flushed red.

“Enough to know that my girlfriend has been hiding a fucking damn good talent from me,” he said. 

You groaned. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” you said. 

“And why the fuck not?” He asked. “You sounded amazing.” 

“I was singing along to a song, it’s like Karaoke… anyone that isn’t tone deaf can do that,” you said. 

“Baby, I’ve been to karaoke plenty of times and none of them sounded like that,” he said. 

“That’s because 99.9% of the time it’s because they’re drunk,” you laughed. 

“No, but seriously, why didn’t you tell you could sing?” He asked. 

“Because it’s not that big of a deal,” you shrugged. 

“It is it me,” he said. “I want to know about all of your talents or anything about you really.” 

“Well, now you know,” you laughed. “But don’t get to use it because it’s not happening again anytime soon.” 

“That’s not fair,” he groaned. 

“I hate to break it to you, babe, but you’re the singer in this relationship, not me,” you pointed out.

“Maybe professionally… but damn, you’re definitely a singer too,” he said. 

You rolled your eyes. “Just eat your damn eggs before they get cold,” you laughed. 

“Yes, Ma’am,” he joked. 

**

About two hours later, Harry was getting dressed to head out to meet everyone. 

“You sure you don’t want to go?” He asked pulling a shirt over his head. 

“Yeah, I should get some work done,” you said. “Because we both know I haven’t done any since we got here.” 

“It’s not my fault,” he defended. 

“Really? Cause I seem to remember any time I was staring at my laptop trying to work, you got needy because I was ignoring you and then you got handsy,” you laughed. 

“Yeah, well can you blame me?” He smirked. 

You rolled your eyes. “You do realize the work I’m trying to finish is for you, right? So, like the more you distract me the longer this shit is going to take to get done,” you laughed. 

“Good thing there isn’t a time stamp for this shit to be done,” he smirked. 

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” You laughed. 

“Trying to get me out of my own house?” He gasped. 

“Yep, now, go, or I will go back to my original plan of staying at a hotel,” you said. 

“Like hell you are,” he mumbled with a pout. 

You laughed. “Look, while you’re out with your friends this afternoon, I’ll be able to get tons of work done, which means I’ll be all yours tonight,” you smiled. “And we can do whatever you want.” 

“Whatever?” He smirked raising an eyebrow. 

“Within reason,” you laughed. 

He laughed. “I’ll see you later, baby. Call me if you need anything or if you change your mind about coming out,” he said. 

You nodded giving him a kiss before he grabbed his things and headed out the door. As soon as he was gone, you set up your laptop and other equipment up. While everything was loading up, you grabbed yourself a snack and drink before setting up at your makeshift desk. 

Harry shut the door behind him and got into his Range Rover before backing out of his driveway. He put the car in drive before driving down the street on his way to the meeting place he would meet his friends at, completely unaware of the mysterious black car following behind him the entire way. 

**Let me know what you think and anything you want me to add into the story! :) 

Also, I’m going to Ed Sheeran’s 2nd Nashville show tonight so this will be my only update for today/this weekend. If I have time I’ll post something tomorrow, but it depends on how I feel and getting other things done! :) 

Impurity (Levi x Prostitute!Reader)

A/N: Hello Perry-sites! I’ve returned with a new story! Like one of my other Levi fics, this one is referencing a scene from one of my favorite shows Game of Thrones that helped create a headcanon I had about Levi. You don’t have to be a watcher of the show to understand this story since it’s a small scene I’m referencing here. I discussed this scene with another blogger @horseboy-kirschtein, who you should follow if you’re not since she’s a great writer and a funny sweetheart you’ll simply love talking to! One more thing, reader’s nickname here is Mini since you’re the tiniest and youngest one at 19 (apologies if this does not accurately describe your real life self, but please just go with it!) Set around the Clash of the Titans Arc where Levi was in the Interior due to his injury. Well anyway, enjoy!

Mini watched herself place flowers in her hair when a knock came at the door. Without stopping her actions, she told whoever it was to come in. Through the mirror, she saw the door open slightly and Gwen’s head popping in. She noticed her pretty smile faltering and then fully subsiding when she took a look at her face.

“What the hell happened?” Gwen asked, now completely in the younger girl’s room.

She had the stereotypical angelic looks when it came to describing  pure beauty. She was curvy with lovely eyes so blue and bright that they almost sparkled. Her lips could remind anyone of two rose petals due to how round and pink they were, going well with her fair skin. And her hair was a marvelous bright shade of blonde that ended down to her shoulders in gentle curls. It was no surprise that she was the highly favored one in the house.

She hurriedly made her way toward Mini, turning her around to better examine the large purple bruise around the girl’s eye.

“I take it your last one didn’t go so well,” Gwen assumed after releasing a sympathetic sigh.

Mini silently shook her head in response, dropping her face to the floor.

“You tell Francis?”

“He told me to come to my room to fix myself up as best as I could before the next one,” Mini answered in a small voice, still avoiding eye contact.

She heard Gwen scoff and mutter an “Idiot,” under her breath.

“Your next one isn’t soon, is it?”

Mini reverted back to wordlessly saying no.

“I know just what you need then. Take over for me with one of my regulars.”

Mini finally picked her head up to give an incredulous look to the blonde who raised her hand up for a chance to explain.

“Don’t worry, the guy’s a sweetheart. The complete opposite of the asshole who gave you that,” she raised her head in the direction of her blackened eye. “If anything, he’d probably beat the shit out of him if he had the chance.”

“I don’t know…” Mini uttered. “I kind of wanted to spend the rest of my free time taking a nap.”

“All the more reason for you to take this guy,” Gwen insisted. “Time with him will help put you right to sleep. Please Mini? At least do it for me. I’m booked for pretty much the whole afternoon, so really, you’ll be doing me a favor.”

Mini rolled her eyes at her friend’s humblebrag, but chuckled as well. Realizing that she wasn’t going to relent, she sighed.

“All right,” she finally agreed.

“Thanks. He’s in the first downstairs room to your right. Enjoy yourself.” Gwen sang out her last statement teasingly.

Merely humming out a response, Mini went on her way. She inhaled sharply when setting out. She had known that an occupation like this wasn’t exactly the most glamorous (then again, which ones were during those troubling times?), but what other choice did she have? After the loss of majority of her family during the Fall of Wall Maria, she was basically made responsible for the income. She had been at the brothel for about two years now, and she was good at what she did for the most part.

It helped that she was the smallest and youngest one there at 19. A lot of the men there had a thing for girls of the young variety, she had learned. With a bunch each requesting her to call them “Daddy” during. It was humiliating, yes, but it wasn’t until earlier that day when a member of the Military Police got extra rough with her during the middle of it when she had officially wondered where in the hell her dignity had gone.

She made it to her destination, standing in front of the door and drawing a breath before entering. Going in, she saw a well-built man sitting in the corner of the room looking out the window and appearing to be in deep thought. He looked to be in his early thirties with short black hair that was styled in an undercut. His narrow eyes were an intimidating dull grey color, reminding her of a stormy sky or gunmetal. If it weren’t for that and the dark circles that accompanied his face, he would’ve appeared young for his age.

He was in simple attire, wearing a black suit over a plain white dress shirt and a cravat adorning his neck. Having heard the door open, he escaped his mind and looked at her standing by the entrance. She attempted to use her hair to help cover the bruised side of her face, also helping present the innocent facade she was known for. With her still not meeting his gaze entirely, she was only met with the sounds of his shoes tapping against the wooden floor and increasing in volume each time he got closer.

“I’m guessing Gwen was unavailable today,” she heard him speak in a deep voice.

“Yes,” she murmured, her eyes staying on the ground. “Her schedule’s pretty packed today, so she sent me instead. I hope that’s okay. My name’s Mini.”

Eyes still stuck to the ground, she saw his feet standing almost toe-to-toe with hers. She flinched slightly when he took her chin and made her look at him. That was when she took into account how they were about the same height since they stared at each other at almost perfect eye level. With an unreadable face, he analyzed her. His other hand reached up to brush her hair behind her ear, now bringing her entire face into clear view.

His breath hitched at the sight. “What the fuck happened to your face?”

She was caught off guard by his bluntness, but managed to shake it off.

“Oh, um, it’s nothing. Last customer got a bit carried away.”

“Tch,” he simply spewed out.

She noticed that his already rough eyes seemed to darken for a short moment before returning to their expressionless state. He let go of her and commenced with silently slipping off his suit, loosening his cravat, and next undoing the buttons of his shirt. When seeing her unbuttoning her blouse, he ceased his actions to place his hand over hers. She stopped as well, her brows furrowed in confusion, and looking to him for an explanation.

“Just me,” was all he said.

All she could do was nod and watched him resume the stripping of his top half until standing before her barechested. She couldn’t help but stare at his chiseled upper body with a blush, awestruck at how defined he was. Distracted by the sight, she was brought back when feeling him grab a hold of her hand and entwining their fingers together. She let him lead her to the bed and had him lie the both of them down. What she didn’t expect, however, was to have her head be brought to his chest, listening to the sound of his steady heartbeat.

With widened eyes, she felt him stroking her hair with one hand while the other kept busy by rubbing up and down her side tenderly. She raised her head at him.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “Is this all we’ll be doing?”

“Yes,” he answered firmly.

She tilted her head with uncertainty, still unable to completely process what this man wanted from her. Deciding to just go with it, she placed her head back down and snuggled into him. He grunted and shifted somewhat to get more comfortable, wrapping both his arms around her. Gwen was right; the warmth and comfort she felt in that man’s arms, along with his scent that she breathed in as she lied on his chest, was enough to put her in a peaceful state.

“What’s your name?” He suddenly asked her. “I mean, your real one. I doubt it’s Mini.”

A tiny smile appeared on her lips, now finding his directness strangely charming.

“You’re right,” she replied, a finger coming to trace the muscular details of his torso. “It’s {NAME}. {FIRST, LAST}. Mini’s a nickname the people here gave me due to being the smallest and youngest one here.”

She felt him stiffen at this.

“How old are you?”

“I just turned 19,”

He relaxed again, going back to stroking her hair. “That’s still pretty young to be in a place like this,”

“Been here for two years. Kind of had no choice after a lot of my family was killed by the Titans. I had to find some way to make ends meet for me and the rest who made it.”

“You could’ve joined the military. Granted, it may not pay well, but we usually do what we can for soldiers with loved ones back home. Making sure they’re secure, even if the soldier meets an unfortunate end.”

“I guess I was too much of a coward to think of that,” she half-joked.

“Well, at least that’s something you can admit. I can respect that.”

She couldn’t tell if he was serious or not since he seemed to be a naturally stoic person, but hummed in response and cuddled closer to him regardless.

“So, you’re from the military then?” She asked. “Do you work in the Interior?”

“Tch, no. I’m a Scout.”

“Really?” She said. “We don’t usually get many other branches of the military here. It’s mainly MPs we see around here.”

“Was it one that did that to you?”

It was her turn for her body to tense up. “Yes…” 

Wanting her mind off the ordeal, she quickly decided to change the subject. “What’s your name, by the way?”

“Levi,” he answered lowly, beginning to doze off.

“Levi…” she repeated in a contented sigh, the comforting aura of the room finally overwhelming her.


“This was nice,” she told him, watching him redress himself.

He nodded in agreement, draping his black suit over his shoulders and wearing it as if it were a cloak. He next fished through his pocket until taking out a thick roll of bills. He handed them out in her direction. She gave a disbelieving stare in return.

“Th-this looks like more than wha-”

“It is,” he interjected, confirming her thought. “This should tide you over for a few days. Gives you plenty of time to get some rest and take care of that shit on your face.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,”

“Normally people say thanks,” he said, remaining in his cold-like demeanor.

Biting her lip in hesitation, she reached for the money and slowly took it from his grasp.

She offered him a soft smile. “Thank you Levi. You’re a very sweet man.”

He widened his eyes in an almost unnoticeable way at her statement. Now it was him that didn’t know what to say. So he decided to wordlessly tussle her hair a bit while looking away instead.

“Take care of yourself kid,” he uttered to her.

She nodded. “Be safe out there Levi,”

She watched him leave the room. And she swore that she could see a flick of his lips turning up when he walked away from view.

Originally posted by angel-in-the-wind

Originally posted by miyafukuko

im youngmin as a prince

this is my first time doing this bear with me please– it’s also hellaaa long so i put it under the cut to save those who dont want to scroll past the whole thing lol

  • is highly highly highly respected and loved by everyone in his kingdom
  • hes so sweet to all his people like he’ll go out of his way to check on them and make sure they’re all doing well bc he loves his kingdom so much
  • even sent christmas cards and extra food to all the households in the town during the holidays like WHAT A SWEETHEART
  • anyways
  • he loves his kingdom so deeply you can imagine how on edge he becomes when his dad is suddenly ill and about to pass
  • bc now it’s time for youngmin to step in as king and like?? he’s nOT READY
  • but he can’t let his kingdom NOT have a king like his people need a leader– and his mother bless her but she doesn’t really have leadership skills rip so youngmin is their only hope
  • BUT he’s not married.. he can barely talk to girls lmao but it’s against royal law (?) to become a king without a queen so
  • that’s where you come in

Keep reading

Mi Luna Part 3 “The Chase”

– The reader piques the interest of a demonic clown plaguing a town called Derry. Never in his existence has he encountered someone as fascinating as you, and he quickly realizes he wants to do more than devour you. Can it be possible to tame the beast or are some relationships too impossible to work out? Story is written in second person, aimed at a female audience. Contains smut, gore, and language.– 

  Just giving a heads up, this part contains an attempted r*pe. If that bothers you, please feel free to skip. I made a minor Dark Tower reference, so I included a footnote to explain it’s meaning. Hope you all enjoy this next chapter. If you enjoy my story, please give me a like. +18

Although he was still angry after losing the connection with the you, Pennywise’s rational side started to take hold. He lay in the damp of the sewer and envisaged how a mere girl like you could make him lose control over himself. A sick dread knotted his stomach. “I could have killed her,” he thought to himself. “Thank Gan* that I was not physically standing before her when I projected that dream; I could have killed her and more than likely would have. I lost my control over a dream that I created and would have ended her right then and there all because she boldly tested my jealously. How is such a thing possible? She is, after all, only human.”

His puzzlement was quickly forgotten and raw hunger filled it’s place. He needed to feed and soon. He had awoke from a 27 year snooze only a couple of weeks ago, and he hadn’t fed nearly as much as he should. You were distracting him to the point he was going hungry. He found himself telepathically watching you more and more, because he could technically feed from your emotions. Still a nice meal, but not the hard sustenance he was looking for after his long fast. Pennywise let’s out a deep sigh. “Time to try a change of tactics. I believe a new approach is needed here.”

With that thought, he grins into the dark.

~     ~      ~

You awake with a gasp, sweat covering your body, and you immediately reach over to hit the off button on your alarm clock. You never fancied that you could be so grateful to hear that aggravating chime. Unlike the previous dream with you in the woods, this dream does not fade away from your memory the instant you wake. Aside from his human form in the beginning of the dream, you are able to recall nearly every detail: the faceless party goers, the golden ballroom, your gown, and of course Pennywise turning into the clown. Recalling how his human form melted away into the clown’s, you shudder. “What would have happened if my alarm hadn’t gone off? I think he was gonna .  .  . bite me. Suck my blood or something. What kind of a fucked up dream is that?!” Never in all of your life had you determined your life was in serious peril, but the dream at the masquerade ball changed your mind. If the dream continued uninterrupted, could It have killed you? You were afraid and certain the answer was yes.

You sit up in bed, turn so your feet fall out of bed and dangle to the floor, and sit that way for a few minutes. You shiver despite being wrapped in a heavy comforter. Your clock reads 8:04AM, and you have your shift at the cafe at 9AM. While work is not your favorite place to be, you are grateful to be able to have somewhere to go at all as a distraction. You stand up, toss your blanket back on your bed, and unsteadily walk back to your bathroom in your birthday suit. The full morning light illuminates your bathroom and gives your a feeling of security. You falter a glance in the bathroom mirror and are relived to see nothing but your reflection. That eerie feeling you had earlier this morning is now gone, and you no longer feel as if you are being watched.

“What happens tonight when I sleep?” you mutter, speaking out loud to yourself. “Do I have to start being afraid to close my eyes at night in case I dream of the demented, killer clown?” You turn your shower on full hot and step in before the water gets warm. The cold water is a shock to your system but a welcome respite, and it helps you clear your head. Sighing, you lift an arm to the tiled wall of the shower and press your forehead against it. The water, now starting to get warm, sloshes over your shoulders and down your back. You wonder for a moment how you will get through the day without thinking about him, but know the real question is how you will survive the night should he decide to ‘visit’ you again. You grab some shampoo and squirt a dollop into your hands and begin washing your hair. The shampoo suds up nicely and soon you have a white trail of them trickling down the middle of your back. The lavender scent of your shampoo is relaxing and eases your nerves somewhat. Next, you wash off your body with a bar of lavender scented soap. You glide the bar of soap over your buttocks and wince slightly in pain. “What the–?” you say out loud.

Hurrying the rest of your shower, you step out, grab a towel, and immediately dry off. You run your towel over your buttocks to dry off and again wince in pain. Stepping before the bathroom mirror and lowering your towel, you turn around and look back over your shoulder. On right your buttocks you see multiple outlines of a hand print in an bright, angry red.

~      ~      ~

At the coffee shop, you thumb through today’s newspaper. Two more local children have been reported missing, and one body was discovered that was so mangled it had to be identified by dental records. The disappearances started up approximately a week and a half ago, but the media almost seems to be glossing over them as if they aren’t really that important. You’ve been keeping tabs on the disappearances, however. So far, there have been six official disappearances/murders. One was a boy, Ben, who had been found dead in the canal on his way home from the public library. A boy named Stan had been last seen somewhere down near the Barrens. Another was a very young boy named Georgie. Someone or something had ripped his arm out of its socket like a it was a cheap toy. The body police had identified by dental records was that of Adrian Mellon. A bloody hat had been found near the body that read ‘I heart Derry’. The two new missing children were supposedly Beverly Marsh and Mike Hanlon. What person in any right mind would murder kids for the sheer hell of it? No, not a person; what animal could be doing this? With enough doom and gloom on your mind, you carefully fold the newspaper and put it back on the magazine rack in the corner of the cafe.

“This has got to be the dullest shift, and that damn clock is toying with me,” you think and yawn gazing up at the clock. Your co-worker, Beth, smiles at you and gives a sharp tsk-tsk sound.

“You’ve been doing that all morning and now afternoon, missy. Did you not get any sleep last night? You look tired!”

You scoff, roll your eyes, and quip, “Ha! That’s the politest way of telling someone they look like shit!” You give Beth a wink.

“Watch your language, dear! You know how it upsets my poor, old heart.” Beth grabs a dry rag and tosses it playfully at you.

Smiling, you take the rag and begin to clean the counter for the umpteenth time that day. Beth, satisfied with your effort, steps into the backroom to do some inventory. Glancing up from the counter, you survey the empty cafe and let out a deep sigh. “Dullest day indeed. I guess no one is that in need of coffee today.”

You yawn again, slowly stretch, and are rewarded with a couple of popping sounds escaping your back. Grabbing a nearby stool you plop yourself down carefully not to hurt your sore bum. You lay your arm on the gleaming white counter top and rest your head in your left hand. Beth calls out to you from the backroom.

“I know I didn’t hear another yawn up there, correct?”

“Absolutely not!” Gazing at the clock, it states that it is now 3:30PM. What you wouldn’t give for a nap right now! Well, maybe not a nap per say, but definitely some quiet time you can just drift in an out of consciousness. Perhaps a nice, dreamless sleep! Hell, if you are going to play then play big! “A beach with white sand and balmy breezes tickling your forehead; maybe a little tropical drink, the kind that really knocks you on your ass if you aren’t careful, a nice, huge hammock to get rocked to sleep in .  .  . and of course the smoking hot guy walking in the store—”  The front door give a little ding, and you immediately wake up from your daydream.

Scratch that; this is still a daydream! The man walking in to the cafe is extremely attractive, and you have to mentally note yourself to stop ogling at him. His expensive-looking dress shoes click loudly on the tiled floor as he saunters closer to the counter. He is dressed in a black blazer with a grey long-sleeved button down shirt underneath and lighter grey dress pants. His brown hair is parted slightly to the left. His face is chiseled with razor sharp cheekbones, a slightly pointed upwards nose, and really nice, full lips. His eyes are a green pools that you can easily seeing yourself getting lost in. He looks like he could easily be Bill Skarsgard’s twin. As he nears you, you notice a tiny scar on his right cheek and wonder possibly what it could be from. You stand upright quicker than you expected and accidentally bump into the cash register. A soft blush creeps up on your cheeks, and you look down at the floor but not before you see him smiling at you.  Swallowing hard, you force yourself to meet his gaze and then start your usual sales pitch which you somehow manage to instantly forget.

“Um, h-hi! C-c-an I get you something?” you manage to stammer out. You take the pencil out from behind your ear and immediately get ready to write down his order.

“If you need to write down just a black coffee, be my guest, but you should probably write that down on paper instead of your hand.”


You watch his lips move as he talks and then realize he is talking about the lack of notepad in your hand. You laugh nervously and blush more furiously this time. “I’m so sorry. I guess I am not entirely on top of my game this afternoon.”

“Can’t imagine why.” His green eyes gleam at you, and a dimple forms in the left corner of his mouth. His smile causes you to lock your knees abruptly.

“Well, have a seat. I’ll bring it over to you in a sec,” you decree and promptly spin around and start working. You inhale a cool breath of air slowly and think, “Come on, girl! Get a damn grip! It’s only a beautiful face!” Except it wasn’t just his beautiful face that made you feel light-headed. The very air around him seemed electrified somehow, and you imagined there was quite more to him than meets the eye.

You hear a chair scrape briefly across the floor towards the front of the cafe, and watch him out of the corner of your eye. He sits down facing your direction, his back to the large front window of the cafe, and opens up a pale, orange book in a foreign language with a paper boat on the front cover. You see his gaze start to shift from the book towards you and immediately tear your eyes away, acting inconspicuous. With your back to him, you make his coffee, and pay extra attention to what you are doing. You can feel his gaze burning into your back, and you become even more self conscious. You try to think about something else, and start singing a song to yourself as a distraction. Instantly, you feel his gaze shift away from you and back towards his book. The smell of freshly brewed coffee starts filling your nose, and you slowly pour a cup and place it on a saucer. “Okay, here come the hard part. Must not be a klutz! Be suave, calm, collected.” You swallow, inhale slowly, turn around slowly, and begin walking back towards the attractive guy.

“You got this!” you chant to yourself. His gaze lifts up from his book again and meets yours and a smile slowly spreads across his face. Yes! His smile is intoxicating, and you start imagining that you are the hottest thing he has ever seen. You slow your pace into more of a saunter, rolling your hips slightly like a runway model, and stare directly at his face with full confidence. You start to nibble your bottom lip and quickly realize you have no clue as to what the hell you are doing. Your epiphany, unfortunately, comes a second or two too late, and you feel yourself start to trip. No, no, no!

The first thing you see is the cup, coffee, and plate go flying in nearly three different directions. The next thing you see is the gentleman’s eyebrows lift and a look of shock washes across his face. The last thing you see is yourself go staggering, falling, and eventually coming into contact with the floor a few feet in front of the man’s table. The sound of the coffee cup and saucer shattering rings in your ears.  You end up face down on the ground with your palms spread out on both sides of your head. Shyly, you look up from the floor and see the guy leaping up from his chair and dashing towards you. He crouches down next to you and places a hand firmly on your upper arm.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?! Are you hurt?”

“Nope. Just my pride. I think it may be fatal.” You laugh nervously. His hand is still on your upper arm, and you slowly start to stand up with his help. “So much for being a sex kitten,” you think to yourself.

“You should learn to be more careful,” he admonishes and slowly pulls his hand away from your arm. His eye contact never falters with yours and you look away slightly unnerved by the depth of his eyes.

“Would you believe me if I told you I did that on purpose?” You smile while examining the broken coffee cup.

“Ha, not a chance as I am sure it happens often to you, but you gave an interesting performance nonetheless.” You can see him giving you a warm, toothy smile out of the corner of your eye.

“I live to serve!” You give a little curtsy and you hear him give a short, musical laugh. “I’ll, er, clean this up and get you another coffee. I’m sorry.” You shift your weight to your right foot and immediately fall forward. His big hands are back on your arms in an instant, catching you, and you feel yourself pressed into his broad chest. You make eye contact with him again but don’t maintain it for long. “Egads, this man is tall!” you muse to yourself. You consider yourself an average height, but he towers over you at about 6'4", you’d guess. You can feel the heat pouring off his body and you feel your cheeks darken again of their own accord. Curious, you decide an attempt at finding out your rescuer’s name. “Thank you for catching me Mr .  .  .?”

“Gray. Robert Gray. And since you ask my name, I think it is only fair that you give me yours.” Still holding fast to your right arm, he drops his left and offers it to you. Taking his hand, you give him a quick handshake. Your hand practically swims in his, and his skin is hot to the touch. You tell him your name and he exclaims, “Oh, that is a lovely name! It suits you well.”

You watch Robert’s eyes slide down your face to your mouth, and you nibble your lower lip self consciously. His body, being so close to yours for this long, starts making you a little skittish. You feel your heart thrashing against your chest and if sensing it, Robert takes a step away from you. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Gray. I’ll be back in a few minutes with an intact coffee cup. It’s lovely to meet you!”

“Likewise, I’m sure.” Robert gives you another smile, only this smile seemed more sinister.

Swallowing, you turn around and limp your way back towards the counter. You can hear the familiar scrape of the chair along the floor and assume Mr. Gray has sat back down. Beth comes out of the storeroom, looks down at you favoring your right foot, and shakes her head.  "Trying to dazzle the handsome gentleman yonder again?“

“Er, I suppose. Grace is definitely not my middle na–. Wait, what?” Your eyes widen slightly unsure if Beth is just misspoke. “Again?” you question.

Now Beth rolls her eyes at you. “Missy, don’t start with me. You aren’t suppose to have memory issues until you at least reach my age! And of course again. Yesterday, you stumbled into Mr. Gray’s table and poured coffee in his lap. I’m still not sure that coffee stain will ever come out of his blazer though. I know you are pulling my leg with that one. You were giggling and acting like an embarrassed school girl in front of him. I think he likes you, because he was here drinking black coffee most of your entire shift yesterday. Go in the back room and put ice on your ankle for 10 minutes or so. I’ll fix up Mr. Gray with a new cup of coffee.” Beth then motions her hands for you to leave and you wander into the backroom in bafflement.

You pull the door closed behind you and limp towards the fridge in the break room and get some ice out of the freezer for your foot. You pause for a moment, mouth slightly ajar with a quizzical look on your face. Beth couldn’t be serious. You had only just met Robert Gray not 5 minutes ago! If you had met him yesterday, why would he introduce himself to you again? You sit down on a chair, wincing from the marks on your buttocks, and rest your foot on the table with ice nestled against your ankle. “Beth sounded so genuine just now, so who is the crazy one? Can I really be having blackouts like that and if I am, is it because I am not sleeping near enough?” You shake your head. Absolutely not! Even tired, you know you wouldn’t forget a face that handsome or a voice that silky and seductive. For an instant, you admit that you do know his face as if from a dream, but you are unable to place it. You feel your stomach flutter slightly and chalk them up to nerves, and cross your arms over yourself as if suddenly chilled.

After 10 or so minutes, your ankle is comfortably numb and you decide to brave the rest of your diminishing shift without it. More so, you want to offer Mr. Gray a refill and question him as to why he acted like he didn’t know you today. You are absolutely sure he is the one messing with you and not Beth. You peek up at the clock. 4:19PM. Sighing, you rub your eyes. Whatever the hell has been going on with you the past couple of days? When you get home, you fully intend on taking a large dose of benadryl and sleeping like the dead. The word ‘dead’ made you freeze in your tracks. “I almost died last night,” you recalled to yourself. Maybe doping yourself up beyond waking wouldn’t be such a good idea after all. Oh how you wished you could just go back to your normal life; everything seems so off and irregular at the present and you are starting to question if up is down or down is up.

“Feel better?” Beth inquires, glancing over her thick, acrylic glasses at you.

“Actually, yes. Thank you for the suggestion. I’m honestly surprised I have no damage from yesterday’s clumsiness.”

Beth’s eyes narrow and she says, “Yesterday’s clumsiness? Why, what happened?” She doesn’t quite look like herself suddenly.

“Me falling yesterday into the table and pouring hot coffee over Mr. Gray’s lap?” You give a short laugh, knowing full well that Beth is having a go at you.

“Who is Mr. Gray? You never fell yesterday, at least here,” Beth responds and her expression shifts from puzzled to mildly annoyed now.

“Beth, are you serious?! The Mr. Gray sitting out there!” You gesture towards him, but he doesn’t look up at you either because he is engrossed in his book or clearly trying to be polite and not listen to your conversation.

Beth’s voice becomes stern and the usual warmth and kindness in her face vanishes. “Now, look here. I’m not interested in playing games today nor am I interested in playing games with you tomorrow. This is the first time that young man has entered this coffee shop. Never saw him before in my life and neither have you. When your shift is over, please, go home and get some rest. I’m really starting to worry about you. I worry a lot,” Before you can respond, Beth turns away from you and heads back into the back room, the door shutting softly behind her.

That now too familiar sense of dread fills your stomach, and you start questioning your very sanity. You raise your left hand to your forehead and feel if you have a temperature. Cool as a cucumber. You have your back turned away from Mr. WhoEverTheHell, but you feel his eyes burrowing into you, watching and studying. You get a sense that a smug grin is smeared across his face. Your trepidation quickly becomes anger. What the fuck is going on here? Turning around, you see his eyes fall back to his book. Clenching a fist and stuffing it into the pocket of your green apron, you march with a limp back over to Robert’s table.  

The sound of your heels click and clack at the floor, but Robert doesn’t look up at you till you are standing to his left. He lowers his book slightly, looks up at you, and offers you a humbled smile.

“Can I get you a refill, Mr. Gray?” you inquire.

“No, but thank you kindly for the offer. Exemplary service, this cafe!” His eyes lower back to his book. And you can feel your blood start to boil. Even while reading, his full lips turn up at the corners in a sort of smug beam.

“Where you here yesterday, Mr. Gray? Beth told me a bit ago that I apparently made a spectacle of myself by falling into your table and pouring coffee over your blazer yesterday, yet today you introduced yourself to me as if we have never met.”

Without looking up at his book, he retorts, “Apparently not. You heard your co-worker, and I couldn’t help but overhear her myself.” He looks up at you, the smile now gone and concern fills his eyes. “You really ought to get some sleep. I would be more than happy to accompany you to make sure you get home safely.”

His green eyes stare directly into your soul, but you resist the urge to look away. How dare he act so condescending? You look down at the pale, orange book he is holding and realize that it is upside down. He has been holding upside down this entire time! You can feel your nails digging into your palm as you clamp your fist tighter in your pocket. Narrowing your eyes at him, you cock your head to the side.

“Sir?”

“Yes?”

“Your book is upside down.” You hold his gaze and don’t blink, searching for any sign of emotion in those deep eyes of his. Abruptly, you see his pupils dilate, and his eye color becomes more vibrant.

“Hmm? Oh!” He gives another one of his musical laughs only this is more of a giggle. “So it is! Thank you for correcting me. ” He grins at you now, his teeth a little too long to be considered normal. A little too white. He looks down at the book while flips it over so he is now holding it in the correct position and looks up at you innocently.

“What really happened yesterday? This isn’t the first time we’ve met, is it?” You glare down at him.

He gives a breathy sigh, stretches in his chair, and looks away from you. “Why couldn’t you just cooperate and believe what you were told like a good, little girl?” His tone was borderline pleading.

“Huh?!” You gape at him, still upset and now confused.

“Things could have gone a lot smoother, and I wouldn’t have had to frighten you. If you show me fear, it drives me absolutely wild with need, and I can’t help but chase you.  Oh, how I long to make you float and reach the sky! Do you have any idea what you do to me, or for that matter, do you have any idea of what I would like to do to you, mi luna?”

Any anger you had is extinguished like a match being thrown into a pool of water. You stare at him, aghast, and take a couple steps back. “That name, ‘mi luna’. I was called that last night in a dream by something that resembles you!” You back up another step, and he continues to watch you like a snake watching a bird. You slide a hand over your right buttocks and feel the bruises that Pennywise left there.

You turn and hobble back to the counter and holler out to Beth. “Beth? Beth?! You’re right. I’m most certainly not feeling like myself. I’m heading home early. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

You hear a muffled response, “Okay, missy. Have a wonderful night.”

You take your apron off and fling it on an antique hook on the back wall of the cafe, and reach under the counter and grab your purse, white knuckling the strap as you put it on over your head. You dig inside and feel your keys meet your hand, and you ready them in your hand as a weapon if need be. You swallow and turn towards the front of the cafe. You shiver knowing that you have to walk by this creature to leave the shop. Despite your ankle, you decide to make a run for it. You dart towards the door, your lungs feel as if a steel band has been wrapped tightly around them. As soon as you are near Mr. Gray’s table, his left hand darts out and catches your left wrist in a vice like grip. You shake your hand violently trying to free yourself and bite back a scream.

“Do be careful out there, mi luna. You don’t want to know what I will do to your body lest I catch you, ” His eyes look up and meet yours. He licks his lips slowly and releases your arm. You dash past him, shoving the heavy glass door wide open, the bells crashing together loudly.

~               ~                   ~

Your lungs are burning at this point, and your right ankle is protesting your exertion. You aren’t sure if It is following you, but you don’t dare turn around to find out. You are about halfway home, but you feel far from safe. You decide to take a different way home in case he is following you, and slow your run down a bit as you turn down an alley. You lean against the brick wall of a building and catch your breath. You place a hand over your heart and feel it beating rapidly against your palm. What are you going to do? If you sleep, the clown can access your dreams and possibly kill you. You thought reality was a far safer bet, but then clown comes in your workplace for a damned cup of coffee. “What the fuck?” you mutter out loud and feel tears prick your eyes. You half wonder if you are still sleeping and dreaming this obvious nightmare. “So either way, I’m dead. Pennywise, or Robert Gray can get me whether I am asleep or awake, so what is the fucking point? I wish he would just kill me now and get it over with!” You look down at the ground and your vision becomes blurred by your tears. Carefully, you wipe them away and continue down the alley and make your way home. You turn a corner and accidentally walk into a man’s chest.

“Where ya going, beautiful?”

Your head snaps up half in fear of the voice belonging to the clown, but it is a man you’ve not seen before. Probably a transient by the way he is dressed. Still, your situation here isn’t good nor safe either, but you’ve had enough of being afraid for one day. “Let me by.” you command.

“Aw, now why would I do that? Sweet, young thing like you? Come on, stay and visit me for awhile. I’ve got something real nice here for ya!” He reaches out for you, but you pull away before his fingers take your hand.

“I’m warning, sir. I’m not interested. Now, please, step the fuck away from me.”

“Or what?” The hobo laughs and makes another grab at your wrist. He catches it and yanks you painfully to him. You stumble and feel fresh pain radiate through your already swollen ankle. You glare at him and do something you’d never thought you would do: you pull your hand back and coldcock the transient in the nose. He immediately lets you go and clutches his nose.

“OW! You BITCH! You’ll pay for that!” He staggers towards you, but you are already running. Unfortunately, your right ankle fails you, and you go crashing to the concrete. You feel blood soak into your black leggings and your right ankle sings soprano making you see stars. You try to get up before he comes to you, but you are too late. The transient flips you over on your back and you start screaming for help. You feel a hand down at the waistband of your leggings and skirt as he tries to painfully tug them down.

“PLEASE, SOMEONE, HELP!!!” You scream as loud as you can, panic ensuing you. You thrash and kick against him with all your might, but he holds fast to you. You can hear the fabric of your bottoms begin to give and tear and you close your eyes waiting for the inevitable. All of the sudden, you feel the hobo being forcibly yanked off of you and you hear an all too familiar voice.

“You’re not a very smart man, are you?” Robert Gray croons at the hobo, still wearing his black blazer and faded grey dress pants. You watch in panic knowing that Pennywise had only just saved you for himself.

“Get the fuck off me, man! I saw her first! You can have her after I’m done!”

Pennywise’s voice is mysteriously calm and quiet. He gives a chuckle, his fist gathering the fabric of the hobo’s shirt and pulls him closer almost as if he was going to kiss him. “You don’t seem to understand the situation, human. You don’t get a choice. The only thing you get right now is death.” You see Pennywise’s eyes flick from the hobo back to you, a look of concern washing over his face. “Close your eyes and plug your ears, mi luna. Some things are better left unseen.”

You can hear the hobo swears turn into blood-curdling screams before you manage to jam your pointer fingers in your ears. Your eyes are tightly closed, but you can only imagine what is happening to him. You roll on your left side in a fetal position and rock yourself gently, tears pawing at your eyes from the horror of what is actually happening. You quickly hear the man’s screams die out and soon replaced by a wet smacking sound with an occasional snap of a bone. Bile rises up into your stomach and you fight like hell to keep from vomiting. The smell of wet copper affronts your nose and you try not to think about how much blood there actually is as this man is killed and apparently eaten. Your whole body shakes, and you continue lying on the ground what seems like eternity until you feel a soft, gentle hand touch your back tentatively. Immediately you open your eyes and remove your fingers from your ears. He is crouched down to your right. He is way too close for your comfort despite having just saved your life. Tears stain your cheeks, and Pennywise lifts his hand from your back and rubs the marks away. His gentleness churns your stomach and you look up and see a bloody heap of what is left of the transient 15 feet away.

“You killed those kids,” you realize out loud. You know he is watching you, but you don’t look at him. You cannot look into those eyes right now.

“Yes, I did.” His admission is deadpan. You can hear him breathing rather harshly as if he just got done running, probably from the adrenaline.

“Why?”

“Why do you ask questions to which you already know the answers, mi luna?” He sighs deeply and stands up, looking down at you. He extends a hand and you reluctantly accept and he pulls you to your feel as if you are weightless. You wince in pain from your ankle, and he wraps one arm around your waist to steady and keep you from. Although his touch disgusts and terrifies you, you don’t pull away. You know full well what could happen if you tried to run from him again, and you are sick of having to run.

“So, you don’t value human?” you question him defiantly, still avoiding his gaze.

“Like you value animal lives? Thousands of animals are slaughtered every day and used as food.” He smiles weakly at you and reaches up, brushing your disheveled hair out of your face tenderly.

“While I appreciate you saving me (for the time being) from that man–you just–murdered him! When did a cow try to murder a farmer? That’s a piss poor example!” You can feel his eyes still looking down at you as if begging you to return his longing gaze.

“Is it?” Pennywise lifts your chin, bringing your face closer to his own, and inhales your sweet scent while closing his eyes finally. “Your way of judging a life’s worth is entirely different than my own. It’s difficult for me to equate value to a your mayfly existence other than one purpose: dinner.”

His lips are so dangerously close, and you are disgusted with yourself for wanting to see how soft they feel against your own. As if reading your thoughts, he lowers his face and presses his nose against yours as if inviting you to taste him. “Why don’t you just kill me now then and stop torturing me like this? Or is it not supper time for you any longer?”

“Soon, but not too soon.” He smiles and presses his body firmly into your own, awakening your senses. “I would much rather have you for dessert. Contrary to your manners, I find playing with your food prior to consumption highly agreeable.”

“You’re,” you whisper, his lips now barely just touching yours, “a monster.”

“I know,” he whispers almost inaudibly. You claim his lips, parting yours slightly. You just couldn’t help it any longer.

He growls against your mouth, parting his own lips and kisses you deeply, and presses his hands more firmly against the small of your back. You can detect the bitter, metallic taste of blood upon his lips and, oddly enough, it excites you. You squirm against him, grinding your hips into his body. Pennywise crushes your body to his roughly, deepening the kiss, and moans softly into your mouth.  You pull your lips away from him and look him in the eyes and see they are now a rich ochre color. “I need you to do something for me, if you are willing.”

Breathlessly, he replies, “Anything, mi luna. Name it, and I will do anything you ask if you kiss me again.” He closes his eyes and leans his face closer to yours.

“I need you to promise me something. Can you do that?” You move your lips closer to his but pull away when he tries to kiss you, teasing him.

“Yes! My Gan*, kiss me again, please!”

“You cannot kill anymore children. I know you say human life has little to no meaning to you, but I am asking you not to eat children. I cannot give you reasons that you would understand, just please.” You look at his closed eyes and he opens them, gazing directly into your soul.

“Done.” He finds your lips once more, this time more aggressively.

You moan against his mouth but pull away with restraint. “Really?”

“Yes, but I have a condition of my own.”

Uh oh. You swallow and hesitantly inquire, “What’s that?”

“Let me feed from you instead,” he pleads.

“Done. I don’t think I can run from you anymore,” you state and cup his smooth face, kissing him passionately. “Thank you for saving me.”

He laughs against your lips, a hand slides up and grips your hair gently in his fist and pulls your face away from his. He looks down at you and smiles wickedly. “You’re welcome, my moon, but who is going to save you from me?”

to be continued

(Gan*–“Gan is the creative overforce in the cosmology of Stephen King’s universes. King’s inspiration for the word remains unknown, but he may have taken it from a Hebrew word, which means, simply, “garden.” Gan’s role in the novels is very much in line with the concept of God.“ Source from Stephen King wiki

No Control | Chapter Thirty-Four

Summary: 

Micky Bennett: college student, loyal friend, aspiring nurse, One Direction fan, Harry Styles enthusiast. Her best friend, Trevor, wins tickets to a show in New Jersey with meet and greet passes. Micky expects a quick photo op with the boys and a great night at the concert with her best friend. What she gets a whole lot more than she bargained for.

To read previous chapters, you can go here

*Please feel free to reblog and send feedback. It’s much appreciated :)*

*Gif is not mine.*

THIRTY-FOUR

When we enter the kitchen, Trev is standing in front of Harry’s coffee maker, pouting at it, a glass of water clutched in his hands.

“You alright, mate?” Harry asks.

Trev turns to look over his shoulder at us, his eyes red rimmed and squinty, probably from the splitting headache I’m sure he has this morning. 

“Your coffee maker is too fancy,” he huffs gruffly. “I just want a cup of coffee.” His voice is whiney and I stifle a laugh as I go in search of some painkillers for him. 

“Lemme help,” Harry offers, patient as ever with a grown man acting like an upset child in his kitchen.

I leave to Harry’s restroom to see if there’s any medicine in there. When I come back successful, a whole pot of coffee is brewing on the counter, and Harry’s got a kettle going for tea on the stove. While Harry’s usually a coffee drinker in the morning, he’s got two mugs with tea bags already in them on the counter, meaning he’s making one for the both of us this morning. I don’t know if it’s because he genuinely wants tea or if it’s in solidarity with me because I can’t have coffee, but I’m choosing to go with the latter because it makes him seem sweeter than he already is. 

Keep reading

  • dead again by type o negative: waiting for my mom in a gas station parking lot, watching documentaries about rasputin at 3am
  • pepper by butthole surfers: being high as fuck in a neighborhood full of mansions with my friend, laughing at the name 'butthole surfers'
  • loser by beck: walking around target with a bunch of friends on a saturday afternoon, trying out all the stuff in the toy section
  • demolition lovers by my chemical romance: being taught how to put on emo makeup at age 11 before begging my mom to take me to hot topic
  • space oddity by david bowie: driving to school in a senior's shitty pick up, feeling like hot shit during freshman year.
  • light by kmfdm: waking up at 4:30 for school, drinking way more caffeine than is healthy, putting on way more makeup than is necessary
  • cocaine and toupees by msi: drinking that ginger beer that tastes like pepper spray by the pool on a 106 degree day
Namaste- Smut

Author: mystic-biscuit

Rating: 18+ NSFW

Words: 2809

Pairing: Dylan x Reader

Notes: Well, here ya go. Its my first smut.


“You’ve already forced Tyler to take these classes with you. Why do I have to come as well?” Dylan pouts reluctantly while he throws his yoga mat down at the back of the class.

Holland picks up the discarded mat and walks to the front of the class directly behind where the instructor will be. “Seriously? And you’re making us do it up at the front?”

“Dylan. We all do a lot of physically grueling stunts on set, yoga can help strengthen you physically and mentally.” Holland simply replies.

“Dude. You will like it. Trust me.” Tyler raises his eyebrows at his best friend. Holland smacks his arm and rolls her eyes.

“I don’t see how-” Dylan is cut off by the instructor entering the class and setting up her area. Dylan’s eyes widen. “Holy. Shit.”

Keep reading

Klandom: *says some racist shit about Sam and/or Rhodey* 

Me: Screencapped and emailed to my lawyer. She will have filed charges by tomorrow afternoon. By law We must allow you 48 hours to remove the offending material. If not, you will be charged with defamation of character, libel, and criminal mischief, all misdemeanors. You will face a judge trial.Don’t think you won’t be found either. That email with the cap also includes your Dox, which will not be shared publicly. I’ve also forwarded this material to the local FBI field office. They take false accusations of pedophilia VERY seriously. Especially when your uncle is a high ranking Homicide Detective with good friends in the FBI, the US Marshals Office, and the NSA.

anonymous asked:

the last choking anon inspired me to share a story: today my man and i had an afternoon of making out n movies and shit, and eventually he was hitting it from the back and choked me for the first time in my life and nearly passed out due to shock and being choked, and i had to take a quick break in the middle bc i felt like my soul had projected to a higher plane

dude ok storytime about this…..i realized i was into that totally by accident my junior year of high school and i was sO embarrassed ok so: a bunch of us were all at my friend’s house hanging out w her dog and cats and making sushi, ya know? and we got on the subject of bdsm, and me, being the knowledgeable girl that i am had read a factoid on tumblr.com about how ur sposed to choke from the sides and not against the windpipe and everyone was like woah rly? so we tried doing it to each other and my guy friend did it to me and i was like ……..oh my god

Early this afternoon, while my mom and I were running errands, she returned the cart to the corral while I started the car to get the air conditioning running and all of the nasty hot air out of the system. Ha. Right. That process takes several minutes of driving at speed, so idling isn’t going to do it. But still. 

When my mom got into the car, she said, “How would you go about making sure this got to the right person?” and then held out a paper to me. A money order for nearly $700. 

Well, shit. 

Somehow, miraculously, this place filled in the “Pay to the Order Of” section electronically, so the whole thing was filled in. Unlike when I needed money orders to pay for rent. They’d print the amount, but the rest of the fields were blank for me to write in by hand. If I’d lost one of those…

There was nobody looking for it. Nobody who noticed that anything was awry. So we drove to the apartment complex and knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I walked to the office and explained the situation there, and asked that she call the tenant immediately to let them know that the money was safe, that they didn’t need to find another $700 to be paid up by two months, sure, but quite possibly struggling in the meantime. I left my number so that the tenant could call me if desired (I hoped so, because I so wanted to hear that it all worked out), and she did! I didn’t realize what the incoming number might be until after I’d sent it to voicemail, and then when I went to listen to it, my phone died, so I wasn’t able to fulfill her request of calling her back right away, but she was so grateful and lovely over the phone. I am so happy that her money made it back to her, and with plenty of time to spare. 

I feel like I hijacked my mom’s heroic moment, though, by being the one to physically hand it over and to leave my number (my mom would never have left hers), and I hope that she doesn’t feel that I stepped on her toes at all. 

Thursdaythings

1. *Sigh* Brooke has two new impetigo spots around her mouth. The school was skeptical about letting her stay today so I’m expecting a phone call any second telling me I have to go pick her up. Poor baby. Her eye hurts still but looks better and now these new spots. Back to the doctor tomorrow morning.

2. I have my own doctor appointment tomorrow afternoon for my stomach. I’ve had painful indigestion every day, on and off all day, for about 6 weeks. I’ve cut out all spicy things, beer, and dairy and I’m taking Pepcid every morning but it’s still there. Brad and I have diagnosed me as having an ulcer, because we docs and all plus Google says so, so I’m hoping the actual doctor can give me something stronger to knock this shit off. I miss my food [insert baby cry].

3. Good thing is that since I’ve had to cut so much food out and cut my portions down I’ve lost more weight! Yay! Silver lining.

4. The world has gone crazy. I don’t know how to deal with it or talk to my kids about it. It’s tough because you want to protect them but you also want to be honest without closing their hearts and minds to the people around them. Luckily, Brooke is still pretty young to pay attention, but Syd is not and she’s a sponge and pays attention to everything. Boy does she hate Trump, and that’s not even by my influence. Kids know, man. I high five her in my head a lot.

5. Speaking of Syd, she out of the blue asked me the other day if I thought it was a bad thing to ask a demon questions. 😳 I explained to her that just as there are good and bad people, there are also good and bad spirits and since we try not to deal with bad people we should also not deal with bad spirits. And then I prayed the prayer of protection around her about a dozen times since then. Fuckin kids and their thinkin messing with spirits is harmless fun.

6. I got my Archangel Oracle cards and I’ve started learning how to use them. I’m pretty excited about it and they make me feel comforted. So there’s that.

7. 1 month and 3 days @beardfordays, not that I’m counting. ;)

Okay that’s all.

3

Weekend got itself off to a shit start. My PC crapped out on me and corrupted my hard drive, causing me to lose juuuust about everything on it, including most all of my stories, screenshot, artwork, logs, you name it. I just got my system back up and running yesterday afternoon and the recovery process for the old drive is going to take a lot longer than I’d hoped for. So have some new screenshots of @nihil242 and I laughing and staying positive. Also because of this, I’m gonna push back the first chapter to wednesday, so I can start to rewrite everything and get the required screenshots for it. 

Dance Tip Of The Day!

Number 13 (?)

For the love of God please bring a tennis ball in your dance bag!!!

I know it sounds really weird, trust me I do, but a tennis ball has saved my life many many times

Imagine me, on a Saturday afternoon, I am in class from 8:30am to 2:30pm. Half way through my feet start to hurt. And I mean hurt. I go from ballroom to tap to ballet, I am in pain after those three classes let me tell you something. But you know what? I still have Musical Theatre after that. 

So I take out my motherfucking Tennis ball, put it under my motherfucking foot, and roll the shit out of that motherfucker.

It gets out every single cramp, all your aches, any pain, removes tight muscles, and makes it so that you can walk normally again.

So just, get a tennis ball okay?

okay.

anyway, i called my mama crying today. and it wasn’t quiet crying, it was loud, it was me breathless, it was red face and waterfall. i don’t get it, i was happy just a few hours ago. me and my friends started our evening playing cards against humanity, playing billiards, taking pictures in  the middle of the road. i was just supposed to fall asleep this afternoon, but somehow shit happens every single time, and always today. i don’t even remember not crying on my birthday. i don’t ever remember not crying at all. 

Business, Pawns, and Face Value.

I just had an 8 hr drive today, and terrible motion sickness to boot, so bear with me as I try and out all my jumbled thoughts into a somewhat coherent post. I usually lurk, or don’t really interact much in posts or happenings when it comes to being on tumblr recently. Yesterday I decided to take the plunge, seeing as SDCC was in full blast and getting some goodies from the cast. Then the proverbial shit hit the fan in the afternoon, one would think, and all around me was whiplash after whiplash of posts ranging from anger, disbelief, and just tiredness of the whole ordeal in general.

Now I know that some or most might not agree with me, and I do get the whole tiredness of bullshit responses, smoke screen answers, and overall wtf is going on responses to the EW response and previous bs answers or responses to the “were so not together”. Now here’s where things might get jumbled, so sorry in advance, but I haven’t slept in over 20 hours.


Some have had it, can’t take it anymore, feel like the cast has made ridicule and belittlement of the fans, that shipping has become a burden, that, quite frankly, the stars are arseholes, and I just don’t feel like that. That’s not me, that’s not my take on the situation. Some might be like, “ how in the holy hell can you still have the energy and enjoyment to ship these two when they’ve constantly tried to express otherwise that they’re not together?” Simply, I don’t know, I just do. I look past all that smoke screen, forced bullshit, which I see as nothing more as two actors ( who have been constantly praised as humble and kind individuals by those who surround them) being pawn, or property one could say, to a studio who sees them as money makers and fans as money machines. They don’t see them or us on a personal level, but more at a face level. Consumer and product.

To be honest, all that for me was script, the bs fed in that interview, in IFH, whenever there’s a denial. I can be called naive,delusional,dumb, foolish, I could lose followers, but I think I’ve had enough experiences to draw in my short life to try not to take every single thing in as face value, that so much more, SO much more goes on behind the scenes, things one might never be privy to. I don’t try to impose my believes or opinions on others, and I won’t ever try to because that just doesn’t feel right and I won’t try to belittle others for having a different view than mine. In the interview, I saw that as a question that was laughed at, probably at the ridiculousness of continuing a false of a script to deny and deny that is fed to them from those that basically own them for as long as a contract lasts. I try to look beyond the rose colored glass tint or smokes screens, because for me, they’re just doing the business required of them from the studio, however unpleasant and irritating it might be.


I also chose not to see these actors as perfect, because we’re human, and make a shit ton of mistakes along the way, hurt people, whether intentional or unintentional, regret it and try to make amend or learn from it. Can’t really see them as perfect and won’t ever since its human nature to fuck up at times, and we make mistakes. Constantly.

For me, I started shipping in the first place from actions rather than words, I could’ve given up a long ass time ago, but there’s too many tiny actions, things I’ve seen that point to more than a friendly friendship than stated otherwise. I chose to continue believing that they’re good people, imperfect and flawed, but good nonetheless. People who’ve created charities to help others, show excitement and true happiness at interactions with fans, and who’ve been constantly praised and humbled by those close or acquainted with. Yes, I still believe they’re together, probably have been for quite a while, regardless of smoke screens put in the way to make think otherwise. Simply, I’ve always been one who choosers to take action over words, trust my instinct, because words mean nothing when actions say otherwise.


Again, this is just ME. Not everyone is going to agree, some may say most of this is bull, and that’s fine, because in a fandom there’s always going to be a plethora of opinions.

So I’ll still stick around, because I just haven’t lost that faith that brought me into shipping these two and into this fandom in the first place; it’s been tested, sure as hell has, but not lost. And if I’ve been proven wrong down the road, then it happens, I’ll probably still ship because they both just have a connection that draws you in, romantic or not.


This might not make much sense, might just be a load of rambling, but I decided to share my two cents on the situation. Fan the way you wanna fan. Ignore the fuckery.

Touch Me (Part.2)

PART1 / PART3 (END)

Artist : GRAY

Why rain should pour down in such a nice day? My first album preparations already finish. Mastering, mixing, music video filming even album jacket photo shoot all done without any delay. Tonight is my first holiday after long hard work so I decide to have a little fun with friends. Some of them tell me a nice club to hang out. So I decide to join them after a finish discussing promotion schedule with Jay tonight. Almost mid night and road become quite because of rain that doesn’t stop pouring since afternoon. The parking lot is a little bit far from the club entrance. I open my car’s window to check the rain. It’s still pouring hard and I don’t even bring an umbrella. I’ll be drench if walking from here. I should call one of my friends to pick me up from parking lot. Maybe the club has umbrella to borrow. I tried to reach my clutch in the passenger seat to take my phone from there.

“Shit” The clutch slip out from my hand and now all my belonging scattered on the car’s floor. I try to reach it but my shoulder brushes against the car’s lamp switch, turn it on. There’s an empty alley in front of my parked car. I didn’t realize it before but it’s clearly seen now since my car’s lamp lighting to the alley direction. Something strange there. I look closely until I’m sure there’s a person there. Lay down unconscious. With panic mode I called ambulance for help and getting out of car. Don’t even care if it’ll drench me or no. I approach that person and found out that it’s a girl. She has wound on her temples.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

winteriron prompt: bucky runs advice blog and tony stumbles upon it, reads it and sees how nice this 'james' person is. so he shoots him a message as well. he sends all his messages on anon, signed -T. It's simple stuff at first like 'how to make perfect roast' but with time their conversation turn deeper and tony opens up abt a lot of things for the first time ever (they dont know who the other is) they talk and fall a bit in love, and one day tony forgets to choose the anon option & freaks out

Here’s nearly 2k of MIT-era tumblr nerds. Enjoy. You can also read this on Ao3.


Tony Stark has done quite a few embarrassing google searches in his time. Far too many, really. In the grand scheme of his embarrassments, this is hardly a ping on the radar, but he feels his face flush red as he types the words into the search bar. After all, Rhodey trusted him with watching his niece for the evening while he’s out with Carol, and here Tony is, searching how to hold an infant properly.

The first few articles that pop up are various family or maternity sites, coaching young mothers on how to take care of their delightful newborns. Tony skims them, eyes flickering from his phone screen to Lily (who is still blissfully asleep in her crib, thank god.) 

The articles were clearly written for people more competent with children than Tony, however, and he clicks from article to article with increasing desperation. Finally, one catches his eye - “How To Take Care of Babies - A Guide for Emotionally Stunted Men.” It’s on tumblr, more sarcastic than clinical, and exactly what Tony needs. The author has younger sisters, apparently, and the post talks Tony through holding Lily, feeding her, changing her diaper (ew) and keeping her entertained with minimal fuss.

Rhodey doesn’t try to hide his surprise when he comes back to find Lily clean, well-fed, and sleeping peacefully. “I’m good with kids,” Tony protests, of course. “I can’t believe you doubted me. Wait, you doubted me and left me with an infant anyways! That’s negligence!”

Rhodey laughs and promises that he’ll call on Tony next time his sister his out of town and he needs a baby-sitter. Tony bookmarks the blog.

Keep reading

I hope everyone saw enough of me this summer, because your girl goes back to being Ms. Hudson on Tuesday. I don’t get formally to see all of my new friends until Thursday, but my classroom is like, 95 percent done, I’ve got a shit ton of coffee and peanut free snacks in a drawer in my desk, and I’ve even got my first day outfit all picked out, just like I’m back in high school. If you really wanna see my classroom, check me out at meet the teacher night Tuesday night..or actually don’t, because I’m not sure I trust y’all. I’ll just take pictures. 

anonymous asked:

For the first time, the notification at 3am woke me up and i groaned out loud because there was no way i was conscious enough to read it right then lol. What time is it for you when you usually post updates?

No matter what time I post my chapter it throws someone off. 

This time I think it was 1am my time? It’s usually a matter of like…the chapter is ready to go much earlier but then I second guess myself about twenty times and make Cassie read it over at least three more times and then I read it over again and try to convince myself it’s not trash and then by the time I actually go to post it it’s midnight and it takes me easily an hour just to format it all so it doesn’t look like shit. 

Even when I posted in the middle of the afternoon though I still had people complaining that I threw off their sleep schedule. Haha. Anyway, hope you enjoyed the chapter. Sorry for the middle of the night/morning notification.