this was crap. it should have turned out better

killerfangirl3  asked:

Anxiety buys Roman superhero themed sock because "Roman, your my hero"

Tw: mentions self hate but doesn’t go deep. Making out.


Roman noticed that since he had broken down sobbing, admiting his self worth issues to Anxiety he had been getting socks themed around superheroes.

Every day had a different superhero.They always had a post it sticker with “Anxiety” and the hero the socks were themed around. He decided to ask Anxiety about it today (he didnt feel comfortable asking Anxiety about it before for some reason, but even today he was nervous.)

“Hey, babe?” Roman was nervous and not sure how his voice wasn’t shaking.

“Hm?” Anxity looked up, noticing the nervous in his boyfriends voice

“Can-can i talk to you?” Roman was nervous about asking Anxiety about it, but he wasnt sure why.

“Sure, whats up?” Anxity turned to face him. If Roman was nervous he better pay attention. Was this avout the socks he had given him? Wait, what if he hated them?

“Whats with-I mean I love it, but whats with the superhero themed socks?” Roman asked. Anxiety let out a big smile before responding with the line he had prepared since day one.

“Because, Roman, you’re my hero!” Anxiety let out a big cheesy grin. Roman was flustered. Anxiety smile faltered. Crap maybe he didn’t like it after all.

“Was-was that too bad or too much? Crap, i should have known, I’m so sorry i-”

“No no! I love it-I just-can I kiss you now?” Roman had no idea how to respond but even he was surprised at his own outburst. It was now Anxiety’s turn to be flustered.

“Uh-y-yes?” They had never kissed before and though he wanted to kiss him he wasnt sure how to respond to that. Roman sat on the couch besides him and processeded to lean forward.

Somehow he missed and pressed his lips on Anxiety chin. They blushed; Roman from embarrassment, Anxiety from finding it unexpected but liking it so much (and feeling embarrassed about the moan he almost let out.)

“I’m sorry-I” Roman was interrupted from Anxiety leaning forward. It took a while for them to figure out what to do, but they proceeded to move their hands around. Anxiety flinched from Romans contact and let out a sound. Roman moved back as Anxiety flunched until he realized Anxiety was gigling. He let out a cheeky grin.

“I didnt know you were so ticklish Anxiety.” Roman teases. Anxiety blushed and replied:

“If you keep up with that act I will stop giving you hero socks and start giving you villain socks.” Anxiety hissed.

(Lets just say Roman got a mix of both villains and hero socks since that night.)

Klance Week 2K16

Day 4: Free Day

{So, I recorded this yesterday and I thought ‘Hey! Maybe I could use this for a fic or something!’ I’m actually really nervous about adding in this audio because I never know how people will reply to it. But, I’m manning up so to speak and posting it anyways. I love music, I love playing music, I love singing music, but because of my mom, I’m always afraid to record myself. Regardless, enjoy this fluffy Klance fic.}


Summary: Lance listens to music all the time and it gets on Keith’s nerves. The castle is only so big and sound carries through the halls, who knew the metal walls would have such great acoustics? The red and blue paladins have a rivalry like you wouldn’t believe, and music is often a source of their arguments, but their arguments lately seem to have an undertone of…fondness? Song confessions and sickeningly fluffy gay moments, you just can’t help falling in love with this red/blue pair.


Lance had a strict morning routine that he had kept for years, just because he was in space didn’t mean that he would change it. Basically, the brunet blasted whatever energetic song he pulled up first to help pull him from his bed. The beginning of the song blasted out of the speakers causing Lance to jump from his bed to sing along. “Zumbale el mambo pa’ que mis gatas prendan los motores.Zumbale el mambo pa’ que mis gatas prendan los motores. Zumbale el mambo pa’ que mis gatas prendan los motores. Que se preparen que lo que viene es pa que le den, duro!” Pounding on his door interrupted the blue paladin’s morning routine. He sighed, paused the song, and slapped a hand to the pad beside the door. The door slid open to reveal a very irritated red paladin. “Seriously Lance! Stop playing Gasolina so much. Sound travels surprisingly well in the castle and I’m tired of hearing about how much this guy likes gasoline!” Keith shouted in the brunet’s face. Lance struggled to keep a straight face, “The acoustics in this castle are out of this world.” Keith punched Lance in the stomach and walked away muttering under his breath. The blue paladin coughed out a laugh, “I thought that was pretty punny.” He snorted and went about his morning as usual.

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Made with SoundCloud
how awkward

 for Jen, loosely based on this post, because i’ve had a super hard week and she made it ever so slightly better.

~*~

He’s so close. He just needs to stretch that little bit further, strain the tips of his fingers and—

“Shit!” Stiles’ foot slips off the bottom shelf he’d been using for leverage, he grabs for something, catches hold of a packet of Weetabix—shit, the irony that if he’d eaten more as a kid maybe he’d be taller and not have to be reaching in the first place, so funny, universe— and shuts his eyes. He’s hoping the fall doesn’t kill him. It’s Saturday morning, he wants to go to the park later and toss a Frisbee around with Scott, pretend like it’s official exercise; there’s still two episodes of SouthLAnd he has DVR’d that he never got round to; he hasn’t had life altering sex yet; he’s only been in New York four months and he still hasn’t made it to the Statue of Liberty; he needs to meet George Lucas!

To his surprise, his ass never hits the floor. Instead, there’s a pair of hands catching him round the waist, a noise of irritation huffed into his ear, and Stiles’ legs right themselves on the ground.

“Dude!” He spins, beaming with relief and feels his mouth fall open a little. He maybe just called a magnificent specimen possibly related to the sun god dude. There’s broad shoulders and a sharp jawline, eyes Stiles can’t pick a color to describe accurately enough for—like some stupid paint commercial’s wet dream, forest green, but also sea mist? Both, both is good. The eyebrows, too. One of which is currently arched at Stiles, and displaying a clear amount of unimpressed disdain.

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40 struggles INFP personalities experience:

1. The INFP struggles with procrastination. The personality has a difficult time knowing how to time a commitment – and they’re eager to please and will take on more than they can chose.

2. The INFP can get super lazy. If not matured they’ll never clean their rooms, pile up dishes to the moon, and have their spouse or roommate take care of all financial concerns.

3. The INFP struggles to say what concerns them. Sometimes this can lead to extreme passive aggression where for the other person there is no win to the situation.

4. It’s a completely friendly and warmhearted personality. Challenging this innate qualities for arguments will result in unpleasant reactions from the otherwise sweet personality. Or they’ll take a big nap.

5. This personality has some of the greatest struggle getting their crap together. Going through college, getting a career, all of it is really overwhelming. They can do it, but should be encouraged to take it day by day.

6. The INFP has a terrible, horrid time getting over someone from their past. They have such devoted love that turning a relationship off and letting their heart hurt for a moment is near impossible.

7. The INFP will protect themselves in a hidden, isolated, and distraught shelter with a fountain of tears pouring out their chest. It would be better for an INFP to talk out their problems with someone so they don’t slide into depression. Those dominated by feeling and intuition sometimes struggle to express their emotions into words they feel comfortable sharing with others.

8. The INFP is stubborn and has a difficult time seeing where they may be off kilter.

9. The INFP has a difficult to expressing their selves as a child and instead of relying on speaking with empathy they may have been cruel or mean to others. They’re giant hearts are a difficult gift to accept and master.

10. The INFP has a horrid time with theory and trying to figure out it’s application. A nightmare for an INFP would be being stuck in a room with several intense philosophers waxing their theoretical desires.

11. The INFP may feel that they’re terrible at communicating and go through huge streaks of isolation. In fact, the INFP is charismatic and great at having a wide range of friends. This personality is well suited with a more ambivert personality that can take them under their wing and help them to speak up more.

12. The INFP’s desire to do something is strong; however, their stamina is small. Don’t ask too much of an INFP because they have a small gas tank and you can overwhelm them by asking too large of a favor.

13. An INFP takes time to get to know and get them out of their shell.

14. An INFP may suddenly give up and quit in fits of spontaneity. They can suddenly decide they don’t want to be in a relationship, scrap an entire project, forget living in a home. They may then regret their decisions.

15. An INFP is one of the most creative creatures on the entire planet. They have a difficult time opening up that creative world to others because they hate criticism so much, and bringing something out into the world might not turn out right.

16. The INFP folds too quickly in conflict. People can use this to their advantage if they want you to fold.

17. The INFP struggles with developing their intuition and needs to be around extroverts to develop it.

18. An INFP dreams super big all the time – but needs helps getting things done.

19. The INFP is a dreamer, but can be downright impractical.

20. The INFP can be so overwhelmed by their emotions that they’re unsure of what they want.

21. Suddenly the INFP is in a new and exciting relationship, goes three sheets to the wind, then becomes negative in the aftermath and unsure if it’s what they want.

22. Strong perfectionist tendencies may cause them not to give their selves enough credit.

23. The INFP is an amazing, genuine, and considerate personality that cares about other people’s space. They may struggle and panic if they’re comfort space is invaded.

24. Sometimes the INFP gets too laid back to the point of trouble – like overdosing on alcohol or getting into drugs.

25. INFPs are usually adaptable and congenial, unless one of their ruling principles has been violated, in which case they stop adapting and become staunch defenders of their values. They will be uncharacteristically harsh and rigid in such a situation.

26. The INFP is quick to find a personal angle in any critical comment, whether or not anything personal was intended. They will tend to take any sort of criticism as a personal attack on their character, and will usually become irrational and emotional in such situations.

27. The INFP is more irrational than they realize. They might not see how much their choices are guided by emotional logic.

28. A TJ personality is likely to be threatening to an INFP – making managers, teachers, and parents often sources of pain.

29. There isn’t enough time to play and be creative and too much time required for working in this world.

30. The INFP may be eager to start something new, but quickly loses interest if it takes too much effort overtime.

31. The INFP may have problems with confrontation and finds ways to avoid it. It would be better for the INFP to directly approach the problem. This will actually help their relationships and make them stronger.

32. The INFP may go through periods of hoarding everything and then giving everything away.

33. The INFP is brilliant, greater than they even know. The personality may suffer from getting in touch with their confidence.

34. The INFP can become obsessed with their body and also forget to take care of their body.

35. The INFP struggles with extremes. There’s a lot of balancing act going on, so they shift a whole lot. It would help them to take in and sort more information to combat this, but their dominate mode is emotional decision making. This can make it difficult to carry out visions. They have beautiful dreams and should be encouraged to have dreams.

36. The INFP is more crafty than they’re letting you know. They might not say things to your face, but they freely will to others. Encourage them to have better communication skills.

37. The INFP should not be pampered. If you start taking care of them, you’ll be taking care of way more than you want.

38. The INFP has an intense hatred of negativity. It can blind them.

39. The INFP doesn’t need to be so hard on themselves.

40. The INFP is one of the most genuine, important people we have, and yet they often don’t see it.

  Angel — Season 4  {Sentence Starters}

  • “I don’t need to hear your evil plans.”
  • “I’m just glad that everyone’s safe and together, again.”
  • “So, how was your summer? Mine was fun. Saw some fish, went mad with hunger, hallucinated a whole bunch. “
  • “Why’d you leave me? Did you hate me that much?”
  • “Well, look, a bribe. How thoughtful.”
  • “Nothing in the world is the way it ought to be. It’s harsh, and cruel.”
  • “I just want my life back. All my pretty things. I’m selfish that way.”
  • “We both know that isn’t true. You haven’t changed. You can’t.”
  • “They’re scared because of what you’ve done, not because of what you are.”
  • “You’ve got no leverage. What are you going to do? Kill me?”
  • “Hey, you’re pretty. You wanna make out?”
  • “You’ve always been sick. It goes right down to the roots rotting your soul.”
  • “Yeah, that was a nice speech. Touching. I think it ended with you promising to kill me.”
  • “At least you thought you were doing the right thing.”
  • “But understand, there is a difference between wishing vengeance on someone and taking it.”
  • “You’re not getting anything out of me this time either.”
  • “If he ain’t dead, I’m gonna kill him!”
  • “I already know all this crap. So why do I have to go through it again?”
  • “Oh, your ass better pray I don’t look that word up.”
  • “Life should be beautiful and bright, but no matter how hard I try, everything I touch turns to ashes.”
  • “We could rule this world. Why do you oppose me?”
  • “Oh, no. I remember this. I-I remember this place. I gotta get outta here.”
  • “Oh my god? You can hear me? I so love you.”
  • “I know you’ve been out of the loop for a while, but I’m still evil. I don’t do errands. Unless they’re evil errands.”

title: Surveillance
summary: On your left. No, your other left. 
pairing: itasaku, flagrantly so

“Einstein, this is Fox. Mad Dog is heading your way.”

Sakura’s earpiece buzzed as she leaned in toward the computer screen. Something clattered and she froze. Fingers slipped off the keyboard. Her gun cocked in the darkness. 

“It’s me. They sent me to cover you in case,” a voice whispered from the shadows. Her shoulders lowered. The gun slipped back into the holster. Turning back to her laptop, she continued typing away. Strings of letters and numbers whizzed past on the screen. Another laptop sat next to her, balanced on a stack of musty boxes. Rolling her eyes, she typed in the access code.

“That’s stupid,” she muttered. Pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose, she peered up at the second laptop. She watched the progress bar crawl across the screen, dragging sluggish feet. Then she was typing again on the other computer.

“Agreed. But I’m not team leader today so this is out of my hands,” he sighed, sliding to the floor behind her. He pressed his back to hers. She could hear him propping his firearm up against the wall. He let out a heavy sigh.

“And these codenames are even stupider,” Sakura added as her earpiece buzzed again.

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Pastries

A/N: Damn…I didn’t mean to go on this long of a hiatus. Really. I just started working full time and I didn’t have my laptop and I’ve been dealing with my stupid brain being dumb XD

 Anyway, here’s the next request. One more to go! This one’s for @painttainted. Sorry it’s so late!

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Rating: K+

Prompt(s): Marinette comforting Adrien - “That boy needs to let out his feelings.”

Word Count: 1384

Summary: Adrien finds himself in front of Marinette’s bakery after his father cancels their plans on an important day. Who else but Marinette could coax out the pain he feels and make him feel better? Adrienette Fluff. OneShot. Complete.

For the most part, Adrien was tolerant of his father’s continuous absence in his life.

He’d be disappointed—and missing the presence of the last parent he had—which took its toll once in awhile. There are only so many times your father can cancel on you before you start to think he’s trying to avoid you, and as much as Adrien knew that wasn’t the case, it didn’t stop those thoughts from getting the better of him.

But not today.

Today…Adrien was pissed.

Sure, ditch coming in to talk to his class about his job. Miss dinner because you need to stay late at the office. Give a pen as a present every year for his birthday. He could take those.

But of all days to cancel…today?

He couldn’t believe it.

The stone was cool beneath his fingertips as he brushed the fallen leaves from his mother’s grave. With l’automne just around the corner, a few leaves were starting to change and dust the ground, filling the air with their smell. The scent calmed Adrien as he traced the letters on his mother’s tombstone, doing his best to swallow the anger directed at his father.

He was failing miserably.

Gently, he rearranged the bouquet he’d brought before standing up. As much as this day hurt, there was a part of him that was grateful for the time he got to spend with his father. Gabriel had always set aside the whole day for his son and the two would mourn and celebrate her life.

With tears pricking the backs of his eyes, Adrien spun on his heel and nearly ran past Gorilla, away from the limo.

His driver knew better than to follow him.

.

He broke into a sprint soon after.

With the endurance he’d built up during his time as Chat Noir, it took him longer than he’d thought to tire himself out. His muscles ached, but didn’t scream at him.

He needed them to scream the way he currently couldn’t.

Head down, Adrien bit back his tears as he pumped his arms and legs harder, finding a nearby hill to push himself up. The back of his throat was raw and he needed water…

But he didn’t hurt enough yet to calm down.

It was only when he ran up a huge flight of stairs that he began to tire out.

His head began to swim and he stumbled into the side of a brick building. The sweet smell of warm bread invaded his nostrils and made his mouth water. His stomach churned as he pushed his way through the front door toward the intoxicating scent.

He blinked and looked around.

He was in a bakery.

Surrounded by bread, pastries, desserts…he wanted to eat it all. There was even a section with different styles of cheese which Plagg would’ve loved if he were with him.

He felt weird without his kwami.

The soft sound of footsteps grew louder and he looked up to behind the counter.

It was Marinette.

…what was Marinette doing here?

He nearly smacked his own forehead.

It was her parents’ bakery. Duh.

He managed a gentle wave and he watched as her face turned beet red.

“H-h-hi, Adrien,” she stuttered, a smile on her face.

“Hey, Marinette,” he said weakly. The feel of his vocal cords moving irritated his throat and he coughed into the elbow of his sleeve brutally.

Marinette went wide-eyed and dashed around the counter, hand hitting his back to help.

“Are you okay?” she asked, looking him over once he was able to stand upright again.

Adrien scratched the back of his neck and smiled weakly, “Yeah, just hungry…and thirsty.”

Marinette smiled wide, “Well…I can help with that.”

The two spent the next few minutes wandering around the shop finding something for Adrien to eat. There was so much variety and he just wanted to eat everything, but no way he could despite how hungry he was. They’d eventually settled on a €7.99 box deal and filled it up with croissants and other treats. It was only when he was cashing out he realized he didn’t have his wallet on him.

“Dammit,” he moaned, rubbing his forehead, “I forgot my wallet in the car.”

The designer smiled, “I can wait for you to run out and get it.”

Adrien shook his head, “Nah, it’s back at the cemetery.”

Marinette just stared at him.

“I ran here,” he blond explained, “I honestly don’t even know how I ended up this far but it’d take me awhile to go there and back and even then I doubt it’s there anymore.”

The distinct chink of the register going through caught Adrien’s attention as a bottle of water and the box of food was pushed towards him.

“My treat.” She blushed.

“Marinette…I…I can’t…I mean…”

She waved him off.

“I-i-it’s the least I can do,” she managed to say, a shy expression on her face.

The warmth that built in Adrien’s chest at her gesture prompted him to open the box and smile a very Chat-like smirk.

“Only if you have them with me.”

They stood there, laughing and chatting away like they were the best of friends—which they were…they just didn’t know that—until there were no more pastries in the box and the sun was significantly lower. Marinette rounded the counter to shut the front door and turn the sign around to ‘CLOSED.’

“Oh crap…I should leave so you can close up.”

Marinette panicked slightly, “No! You don’t have to go! It’s okay, really, I—”

Adrien shook his head, “You’ve been too kind already, I don’t need to impose anymore. Plus I should probably get home anyway.”

Marinette held the door open as Adrien slipped out, smiling back at her.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he said, waving slightly, “you made today better for me.”

He turned to go but a question from the raven-haired girl made him stop.

“Uhm…if you don’t mind me asking, why were you at the cemetery?”

Adrien froze.

Should he tell her? It wasn’t a secret that his mother was dead, but it wasn’t advertised either and he didn’t really feel like going through another pity party.

His eyes met hers with the intent to avoid the question, but their bright blue shade instead left him saying, “My mother died a few years ago today.”

Marinette swallowed, brow furrowing in pained sympathy. “Oh…Adrien.”

And with those two words, he broke.

He told her about his father, and how he’d cancelled not just today, but so many other days. He told her about how things were different before his mother had passed away and before his father’s company had taken off. He told her about how he constantly felt that he wasn’t good enough and would never be good enough and how no matter what he did, he just couldn’t seem to please his father.

He didn’t know where all of this was coming from. He didn’t know why he was telling it to Marinette. There was a certain aura about her that just seemed to pull it out of him unconsciously, so familiar yet he couldn’t quite place it.

“Adrien?”

He pulled his head up from where it rested in his hands, doing his best to hold back the tears.

She rested a hand atop his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze.

“No matter what anyone says, whether they’re your family or friends, know that you are good enough. Just the way you are.”

The tears surfaced, running down his cheeks as he cried in mourning. He wanted to see his mother again. He wanted his father back. He wanted the family back that he’d loved so much when he was small. He hadn’t really been hugged in years, and the loneliness was starting to eat away at him.

Gentle arms wrapped themselves around his shoulders, drawing his head to a soft chest.

He could hear a heartbeat.

“I’m so sorry, Adrien,” Marinette whispered, resting her chin atop his head. “I’m so sorry.”

He stayed there with her hugging him until his breathing steadied and couldn’t cry anymore.

“Thank you, Marinette,” he breathed, closing his eyes.

“Anytime, Adrien.”

And he knew that she meant it.

It feels good to be moving now (Carmilla fanfic)

It feels good to be moving now by uncreativename (for beforetheclonepocalypse)
Rating: T
Words: 3317
Description: It’s New Year’s Eve and Laura just got off her closing shift at work. Heading back to the Silas campus, she misses her bus – but runs into a familiar face.
Pairing: Hollstein

A/N: AU New Year’s Eve fluff! For some context, this is an AU only kind of: Carmilla’s still a vampire, because it’s Silas, but they’re not roommates and only know *of* each other. Laura’s in her second year. 

Written for beforetheclonepocalypse, who was the best Secret Santa (well, one of two best Secret Santas, looking at you, Side Santa, wherever you went) and made me so happy with her anonymous friendship, so I wrote her a gift. :) I never really write fluff, so I hope I did okay!

Thanks again to my wife, who beta’d it. Best wife ever.

(AO3 link)

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I got home really late tonight, but I promised myself I’d go for a short run (even if it was just 3 or 4k), cook a healthy dinner, clean my apartment, and maybe, if I had time, do laundry.

And, well, here I lay. Horizontal on my couch. Watching last night’s Bachelorette.

I have been so busy lately, and yet so unmotivated lately. And the consequence has been feeling guilty alllll the time. About everything. If I’m inside, when it’s nice out I feel guilt. When I’m watching TV I feel guilty. When I stay up late, I feel guilty. When I hit snooze, i feel guilty. Every day that passes and I eat crap, and don’t exercise, the guilt of all that is immensely strong. Blah. I’m so sick of feeling guilty. And quite honestly, I have no idea how to turn it off. Or whether that’s even possible. Or whether I really should turn off the guilt, because isn’t that what drives me to make things better? Hmmm. I don’t know.

I just want to think, I worked hard today, I’m allowed to do nothing for a night, and then just mindlessly watch my trashy tv show in peace, but nope, not me, I can’t. Anywho, there’s no real point to this side-ways typing of mine, exact that something has to change. I’m tired of feeling tired and guilty.

And from experience I know that exercising will break this lazy-esque routine I find myself in. Exercise has a wonderful butterfly effect on one’s life like that. And, of course, eating healthy. But for the life of me, I can’t find any motivation these days to actually run and/or sweat and/or eat well.

And that, my friends, is tonight’s candid post.

Happy Easter, Winchester

Title : Happy Easter, Winchester

Pairing : Dean X Reader

Prompt : When you bring over your niece and nephew for Easter weekend, Dean and Sam spend some quality time trying to make the best holiday they can for your family.

PS–I wrote this last minute so try to ignore any errors, I just wanted to get it posted to celebrate Easter tomorrow!:)

“Oh come on Dean, please.” You tilted your head to one side, blinking up at him pleadingly. “It’s just for the weekend. They won’t be any trouble I promise—”

“No no no no.” Dean cut you off by raising a hand and scrunching his eyes shut as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “How many times do we have to die before you realize Sammy and I aren’t the best babysitters in the world?”
You let out a scoff, rolling your eyes. “Look, I know this is a lot to ask, but honestly, I don’t know where else to turn!”
Dean let out a groan and rolled his head back in exasperation before he cast a look in the back of your car. Two pairs of bright, innocent eyes gazed back at him from two booster seats. The two kids looked at the daunting figure before the five year old boy pulled the sucker out of his mouth to point at Dean with a happy grin. “HI!”
Dean blinked at your two bundles of energy before he looked back at you. “You know, when you said that you wanted to spend Easter Sunday with me, I didn’t anticipate any tag-alongs.”
You shrugged. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean leaned into your car window pinching the bridge of his nose for a moment. “Why are they here?”
“Because my sister is out of town and that means I’m stuck with the kids.” Dean looked over your shoulder again into the car to see your nephew, Hunter, playing with a small train on his lap. His sister, a few years older than him was sitting quietly beside him, holding onto a chocolate bunny that she had been chewing on since you left your sister’s house. “Look, I’ll make it worth your while.” You whispered. You suppressed a grin as Dean cocked an eyebrow at you suggestively at your comment. You knew you had struck a chord so you bit your lip and blinked up at him again. “Pretty please?”
Dean was quiet for a long time. Suddenly he pulled back out of the window to compose himself, you heard him let out a long sigh of exasperation before he poked his head back into the car.
“Fine.” He muttered, staring at you skeptically as you grinned brightly. “But you owe me big.”
“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You smiled as you jumped out of the car and raced to the back to unbuckle the kids and haul them out. “Just help me with the kids for tomorrow morning and I’ll do anything you say.”
Dean cocked an eyebrow as he watched you unbuckle Hunter and set him down beside you. “Well…” He smiled to himself as you whisked past him, grazing him with a kiss as you went, “I guess that sounds fair…”
He made a move to follow you, a mischievous grin on his lips, but as something tugged lightly on his jeans he froze in his tracks. Dean looks down only to meet Hunter’s big blue eyes gazing up at him. Dean blinked at the kid for a moment. He swallowed and looked around, unsure of how to react with such a young person. “Uh, hey?” Was all Dean managed to offer.
Hunter stared up at him for a few seconds before he extended his hands up toward Dean.
“Up!”
Dean flushed a darker shade and hesitated.
Hunter frowned and grabbed at the air impatiently, “Please.” The boy added.
Dean swallowed hard and nodded. “Oh, yeah. Sure.” He bent over and hauled your nephew up onto his hip, glancing into the boys face, unsure of himself. But Hunter was now preoccupied with the little train in his hands. At the child’s relaxed state in his arms, Dean let out a little half-breath, a smile easing into his face. 

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stab wounds arent shit// Enj&R

Enjolras started the car, his old beat up stick shift piece of crap, and screamed out curses at the steering wheel.  The damn car wouldn’t start and he knew he should have bought a better car, he has the money for fuck’s sake, but he never drives unless he has to and this is bullfuck.

The car finally starts but not before a muffled thump seemed to come from the back of his car.  It was probably his muffler, which, no, he does not have the time.  He ignores the noise and peels out into the street, an even stranger thump resounding from the back.  He makes a turn, another thump.  He brakes, another thump.  He shifts into 5th gear too harshly, a sharp cry.  Sudden realization, and slams on the breaks, pulling to the side of the road.

Quickly, he puts the car in park and pops the trunk, phone already in hand, and half-hops half-doesn’t that what he thinks is waiting for him is what he thinks it is.