time to clean out my drafts


I have this horrific thing where I’m really bad with names and faces. I have an appalling memory. Someone will come up to me in the street and go, ‘Eddie!’, and I’ll try and give myself time by going into overdrive, ‘Hey, hi! Nice to see you!’ and start a whole conversation because I can’t distinguish between who I know and who I don’t.


all time low + inspirational lyrics from each album (with the help of @gabricl)

put up or shut up (2006) - the party scene
so wrong, it’s right (2007) - stay awake
nothing personal (2009) - therapy
dirty work (2011) - time-bomb
don’t panic! (2012) - so long, and thanks for all the booze
future hearts (2015) - missing you

grumpy old man keith: no you don’t ‘still got it’ calm down lance, no one wants to see you break a hip trying to show off

old man lance: we’ve been married for over sixty years and you still think you’re better at this than me, unbelievable

keith: well my memory isn’t what it used to be but last time i checked, yeah

lance: oh please keith your stories are always so boring

keith: if by boring you mean factual, you can’t even tell it the same way twice

lance: exactly!!!

their grandkids: granddad, grandpa, can you please just get on with the story

lance: oh right, of course, where were we

grandkids: you were getting to the part where you guys formed voltron

lance: oh right!! (strikes a pose) so there i was, in the thick of it, the universe’s only hope, your favorite grandpa, a little more ripped and youthful than he is now but (dabs) it was me, nonetheless

keith: oh my god

reading the signs

had this sitting around in my drafts for a while so! here!! thanks to @ushiiwakas​ for proofreading it so long ago.

Castiel Novak, 29. Sign Painter, Stanford University Facilities Management and Planning.

As one of the few tradesman employed by Stanford University, Castiel spends most of his time in his studio, deep below the feet of passing students. He has two assistants – another tradesman like himself and a student intern – but most of his time is spent on his own. When he gets a request from either the custodial staff or a faculty member for a new plate, he does a proof on his design software, emails it, and once he gets the go ahead he fabricates and prints it full scale with a laser printer. On any given day Castiel can be applying a detail, frosting windows, or installing actual signage. He wears the usual black quarter zip with red seal maintenance uniform that’s typical of people working the grounds at Stanford; he doesn’t delude himself into thinking anyone knows he’s responsible for making anything.

While not high art, Castiel’s work is indispensable. He’s painted all the signs around campus announcing the names of buildings, room numbers, where to find wheelchair ramps or a bathroom: pieces of himself. Everything he makes is practical, says exactly what needs to be said in only a glance. Signs like that really only need to be there when you want to see them; they fade into the background just as Castiel himself does. Silently, he takes great pride in his work, in making a few lives easier.

Ironically, the sign that decorates Castiel’s door is just a piece of laminated paper curling at the edges. In neat typeface it announces, “Stanford University Sign Shop.”

Keep reading

remember that time the gang on bmw got into a huge fight after their prank war went wrong? i kinda wanna see an gmw ep of that. all the friends are mad at each other. like everyone’s mad at each other.

  • zay and smackle feel left out because everything seemed to only revolve around the core four
  • maya feels like it’s always has to be lucas vs her when it comes to riley’s attention
  • farkle misses lucas cause they don’t seem to hang out that much anymore
  • zay and farkle are mad at lucas because it feels like he doesn’t care about them anymore
  • lucas is mad at zarkle because he thinks they’re being selfish
  • riley thinks maya is wrong. she’s always hanging out with zay now.
  • “i only hang out with zay because you’d rather hang out with huckleberry.”
  • “what?” - zay; and this causes drama between zaya

and more shit happens and all their feelings just pour out and no one talks to each other and this is like a two part plot

and the only ones who can bring them together are auggie, ava, doy, and emma because they see the kids get into an argument but then apologize or some corny shit.

i just wanna see the clique six in a real fight and become stronger after they reconcile.

The water’s closing in above my head
and it’s so dark and so cold and so silent
But it’s not drowning that I’m scared of–
I’m scared because I can’t tell anymore
If the water in my lungs is salvation washing me clean
or damnation claiming its victory

And your fingers on my skin,
they burn,
they burn like candleflame, like hellfire, like sunlight,
and you caress my cheek,
      you stroke a finger down my ribs,
      you stab a blade into my leg–
it all burns the same, I can’t tell anymore–
but to be honest, darling, I don’t care.
I don’t care if you heal me or bleed me,
I don’t care if you kiss me or kill me,
as long as it’s your fingers against my skin,
as long as it’s your lips against my lips,
as long as it’s you and no one else.
I don’t care anymore.
At least if I die, I’ll die pure this time.

And your skin burns against mine,
collecting molten iron in the notches of my spine,
pouring lava into the hollow of my throat,
setting fire to the screams in my lungs–
And I can’t tell if the air stuck in my throat is just breathlessness,
just you robbing my lungs of life like you always do,
or if it’s smoke tainting my blood blacker and blacker,
or maybe the noose of my sins slowly strangling my death away–
all I know is I can’t breathe when I look at you.
all I know is I can’t breathe when I look at you
but my heart stops beating when I look away and I am dying.

I am dying wearing another man’s face,
wearing another man’s name like secondhand clothing–
too small in the shoulders that never learned to carry the world
too big in the chest that once carried a living heart–
I am wearing his history like a cloak around my self,
wielding his memories like a shield against the blood
    against the death
    against the damnation.

But the blood is coming from me,
it’s my fingers leaving rusty streaks down my face
and I am afraid to reach for you.
I am afraid to hold you in case
I stain you red,
like everything else I touch–
and if I taint you with my stained lips
I don’t think even I could carry that sin.

The preacher puts his hand
on my head,
on my chest,
across the cavity of my empty heart,
and I can’t tell if his words are blessings or condemnations–
I can’t tell if he can bleed the red from my soul
but you look at me so earnestly and I have to try,
I have to try.

I am drowning, and you are my raft.
You are the glimmer of light dancing above the waves,
you are the handful of straws dancing at the edge of my grip–
but I cannot hold you.

I am drowning, and you are my lifeline–
and I let you go.

—  am I drowning or being reborn? ( j.p. )

I was cleaning out my drafts and found this old meme! Way back when I was tagged by the lovely @lyrangalia

List 6 movies that you can watch anytime and tag 6 people!

The Fall
This movie is one that I can watch over and over again. The world is rich and beautiful, the changes in the story from the perception of Alexandria are seamlessly incorporated, and the depth of emotion is flooring every time. Also Lee Pace in eyeliner.

Howl’s Moving Castle
This is the movie I go to when I’m overwhelmed in any way. The costumes, the characters, Sophie learning to love herself, all of it helps soothe me. Plus I relate to Howl on many levels.

Pan’s Labyrinth
I’m a sucker for fairy tales that have dark twists. Guillermo del Toro is one of my favorite directors and I could probably fill half of this lift with his movies. Pan’s Labyrinth strikes a special chord with me because of the color usage throughout the movie and the emotions that they evoke.

Gosh, where do I even start? A story by one of my favorite authors, that challenges masculinity, that takes the hero’s journey and involves a cast of powerful women, and a bunch of zany deaths? Sign me right the fuck up. Also the love story is pretty great, too.

Princess Arete
This is the princess movie I wish I would have had growing up. This young woman deals with a barrage of suitors, a curse, and an evil wizard! Outside of Arete’s harrowing journey there is another woman who spends the movie working to subvert the wizard’s rule over her people.

Marco Caro and Jean-Pierre Jeunet are one of my favorite pairs in filmmaking, and Delicatessen is a film I could watch endlessly and never get bored with. The way the world is constructed and the stories revolving around the tenants, even those who aren’t the main focus, make for an immersive film that never fails to delight me.

And I tag anyone who wants to do this!


Well, you know the thing is, as an actor, you actually do have a good deal of down time sometimes. So I’ve had spans of time where I’ve had the ability to see people that I care about and to live in the city that I’ve chosen to live in as opposed to constantly traveling everywhere. But then you get busy at unpredictable times. See, I don’t have a family or anything, so it’s been more or less easy to keep up with whatever the job has asked me to do. Now I have a dog, which makes it a little more difficult, but so far I’ve been able to leave town, do jobs, work, and the dog hasn’t died yet, so that’s cool!

me: looks at cat for too long
me: why

It’s Love, Not Gratefulness (Soldier!Shownu x Reader)

This was requested by @yoongi-oppa, and boy was a psyched to write this bad boy! (BTW, sorry for taking so long, I was having a really hard time figuring out plot since this is mostly story driven.) I really, really loved writing the plot for this one, I took all my prior and very minimal knowledge of playing Halo and CoD to write this one lmao! Pardon if any terminology is wrong in here, this is probably not how one properly cleans a bullet wound tbh I hope you’ll enjoy this though! 

p.s. GIF is barely relevant to the story, I just thought he looked so good lmao. I couldn’t resist Shownu in a white shirt, god bless.

Originally posted by jooneh

When Shownu was drafted for the war, he didn’t realize it would also be the moment he lost most of his humanity, his compassion.

During boot camp he had been notoriously stoic and quiet, but that was just his personality. He was a man of few words and his superiors saw him as something to conquer, to break. For them he was one of those rare challenges that only come every few years and they tried there hardest to make him suffer. Shownu lasted through those three months of hell only because of his pride and sheer will to defy expectations. He couldn’t say he didn’t have his moments where he caved in on himself, what man didn’t have a few though?

They were only humans, not machines.

He remembered his parents crying, saying he was too young to be in the war. His mother’s tear streaked face as she held onto him for dear life before he got on the train, like she was never going to see him again. He might have been young, but Shownu was the eldest in his squadron, under his captain of course. The rest of the so called men, were boys; still fresh faced, full of patriotism, and eager for action. Shownu thought he was ready as well, albeit not yearning for bloodshed as much as the others, he just didn’t know.

He didn’t know this would be the most terrifyingly beautiful time of his life.

He remembers being assigned to the mountains, where towns dotted the valleys and even clung to the sides of the mountains like industrial parasites. He thought it strangely haunting when they first flew into the mountain range by helicopter, the low lying clouds twisting near the ground as if hiding whatever lie beneath. They were there to clear out any remaining enemy forces that were lingering behind, a simple task for rookies.

As soon as they touched down though, his squad was lit up like a Christmas tree. There was gunfire on all sides; somehow the enemy had gained knowledge of their destination and arrival time, planning for an ambush. Shownu clearly remembers fumbling for his M4 Carbine, his eyes widening as he saw Minhyuk, the closest thing he’d call to being a friend, get tossed into the air like a rag doll. Grenade, he thought mechanically, body moving away from where Minhyuk’s lay in multiple pieces. He felt the contents of his stomach rise in his throat but he managed to hold it down, eyes dragging away from the mutilated bodies that fell to his left and right.

Shownu had been at the top of their graduating class, excelling particularly in marksmanship, but now his fingers felt numb and he couldn’t find it in himself to shoot. He admitted he was afraid to fire at another man, finding the thought of having another’s blood on his hands completely revolting. A sudden burst of gunfire to his right made him instinctively roll behind a low brick wall beside him. Sweat poured down his face already and his uniform was covered in grime from the rubble around him. He scanned for the owner of the firing, finding no one much to his chagrin. The broken down buildings offered pretty optimal coverage, but still allowed a sniper to pick people off easily from the rooftops. 

He realized then how vulnerable he was at that moment, heart quickening as he searched for safer cover. He was a sitting duck essentially and he started as he heard the sharp boom and echoing of an M24 Sniper, no doubt having hit its mark. If he stayed in one place longer than a few minutes he was already dead, so he decided it would be best to enter a building and find his way to high ground so that he could scan his surroundings and formulate a better plan.

Shownu remembers somehow slipping, his combat boots sliding along something wet and slick. He fell to a knee, dust and rubble flying into his eyes. His fatal mistake was when he attempted to stumble away with his back open and only one hand on his weapon, free hand swiping at his eyes. He heard the whistle, felt the impact in his leg like a sledge hammer, the searing pain that raced up his thigh and into his chest. He went down almost instantly, body feeling heavy and feather light at the same time. He somehow recalls he’s still in the middle of a battlefield and through his blurry vision, sees a broken down alley. He began to drag himself across the ground, groaning as he felt the wet hotness of blood soak through his pants and down his leg. After what felt like an eternity, he found himself propped against the alley wall, his gun laying uselessly beside him. It’s not like he could lift it right now to accurately defend himself, he knew he was dying too, so what was the point? At the rate he was bleeding out, he estimated he had been hit in a major artery and only had ten minutes at most before he passed out from blood loss. He took a shuddering breath, realizing he didn’t contribute at all. He had been the top graduate from the academy, yet he hadn’t been on a battlefield for thirty minutes and was already down.

Before darkness pulled him under, he thought to himself, that it was better this way.

He was better off dead.

Your eyes stung with sleep deprivation, knees weak with hunger as you waited for the droning of helicopters overhead to fade off. You hugged your arms around you for warmth as you picked your way out of the broken down building you used to call home, glancing at the sky to make sure there were no stragglers. The firefight had only lasted about three hours, if the sad excuse for a watch you used still worked properly. The incoming wave of soldiers walked right into a trap the moment they landed, and you felt nothing but pity for them. At least they had managed to clear out the rest of the enemy forces that had been lingering here. Saved you a lot of trouble, maybe now you didn’t have to hide in a closet for hours on end anymore. From the amount of bodies around you though, they had suffered a lot of casualties. You walked down the main road of your town, your bare feet numb to the broken debris underfoot as you scanned for any bodies. You were the last living inhabitant of your small town, and the only one for a few miles around too probably. You had explored outside and to the town over and even the one up the mountain, but the people there were hostile and unwelcoming. So you stayed, waiting out your time and chipping away at leftover resources and whatever soldiers had on their person, usually standard military provisions that were made to only last a few days. You figured when you finally ran out of food and water you would then think about moving elsewhere, but for now you were content with the autonomy and isolation.

You didn’t usually find survivors, you waited long enough that they were all usually dead by then. You really were softhearted, regardless of your cold tactics, so when you stumbled upon a man that was still barely breathing in an alley way, you felt your stomach sinking at the sight. He was propped against the wall, eyes shut as his breath whistled softly between his parted lips. His leg was a mess to say the least, a clean shot through a major artery in his thigh. You crouched down and gently peeled back the torn fabric of his pants and winced as it stuck to the bullet hole. You heard him give a small whimper in his sleep, your heart skipping at his vulnerability. You realized then you couldn’t just leave him, he looked so young, probably your age.

You carefully searched his person, looking for any medial supplies through his pack that was abandoned and unopened beside him. You realized he hadn’t even tried to help himself at all and you felt sadness curl in your stomach. When you found nothing you pursed your lips, as you mumbled to yourself, “They’re really starting to get slim on provisions now, aren’t they? Not even giving basic medical supplies to soldiers anymore.” He wasn’t bleeding, which surprised you more than anything really. How he wasn’t dead was an anomaly.
You stood up, talking more to yourself than him, “I’m going back to my house to get medical supplies. Don’t die while I’m away, okay? I’m putting myself out there for you, buddy.” You don’t know why you expected a reply, but you somehow tore yourself away and headed back out onto the main road that led to your house at a light jog. From all the attacks that happened at your town, you had scavenged quite a collection of medical supplies. You first began to do so when the war had initially started because your mother was the town’s doctor. You knew so much now, having picked up basic wound care and suturing from her. Now that it was just you, those skills just weren’t as useful anymore. You’re sure your mother would’ve wanted you to actively go out and aid wounded soldiers, but to tell the truth, you were too afraid after seeing all the destruction they caused. 

You quickly retrieved the supplies you needed from a room in your house that used to serve as your mother’s clinic. You stuffed everything into a bag and left to return to the wounded soldier in the alley way, mind pondering and repeating the basic steps of treating a bullet wound.

He was still in the same position as before, propped haphazardly against the crumbling wall. On your way back from your house you had ran as fast as your bare feet would allow, suddenly scared he actually was dying, making you desperate to return. As you knelt beside him again, you took your knife and carefully cut into his pants a hole big enough to access his thigh. You inspected the wound closer and eyes widening, “You don’t know how lucky you are, soldier. The bullet went clean through and you’re already stabilizing…how?”

This man was one tough son of a bitch, you thought as you began to clean the wound. He jerked subconsciously and you cooed, “Now we’ll have none of that…,” you fiddled for his dog tags in his shirt, fingers brushing against cold metal and the hot skin of his chest. You pulled them out and read his full name, and date of birth, but tilted your head at the name in quotes, “Shownu…?” You let them bounce back down against his chest with a metallic clink. “You must’ve been quite popular if you got a nickname printed on your dog tags.”

You noticed how hot his skin had felt and your eyebrows suddenly furrowed in worry, “Don’t tell me…” As gently and as quickly as you could you removed his helmet and military jacket, leaving him in a plain white shirt that was startlingly white against the grayness of your surroundings. You felt his forehead and noticed he was panting, “Shit, it’s infected. We need to lay you down, buddy.” You don’t know why you were surprised, most bullet wounds got infected within a few hours and it had been roughly four since the battle initially began. Assuming he’d been here most of the time, the bacteria was already doing quite a number on the wound.

He was a lot bulkier than you initially thought, full of heavy, taut muscle, which caused you to struggle to get him into a laying position. He groaned as you plopped him down with an audible thud and felt relieved, “At least you’re still feeling some pain, that means you aren’t too far gone yet.“ 

You needed to get his leg above his heart and looked around you for anything to prop his leg up with. You saw the forgotten pack of some soldier, it would work perfectly. You dragged the heavy pack over and diligently worked to lift his leg and slide the bag under without causing too much discomfort. The trickiest thing to do now was clean the area around the wound and keep it all as sanitary as possible. You wish he was still conscious so you could possibly find a way to get him back to your home, but seeing as he was unconscious just from pain and blood loss, there was no chance he’d be moving anytime soon.

Over the next few days he stabilized and the wound was fighting off infection well with the antibiotics you were siphoning him. You managed to get water down his throat, but you were worried because he hadn’t eaten anything yet. You stayed by his side and watched him carefully, only sleeping and bathing when you absolutely needed to. You don’t know why Shownu seemed so special to you, but you had the feeling your mother would want this, so you remained.

You had been laying half asleep next to him when he suddenly started awake with a loud gasp like a man saved from drowning. He looked around with wild eyes finally finding your scrawny form next to his. He attempted to move and groaned at the pain that followed. You raised your hands in an attempt to calm him, “Hey, take it easy. I’m not here to hurt you, my name is ______." 

He didn’t seem to relax at all, his eyes darting around trying to take in his surroundings, "What-…How-?”

You gently pushed him down by his chest, talking soothingly and methodically, “I found you after the fighting had died down when I was scavenging for supplies.” You saw his eyes soften and his body relax, “I’ve been taking care of your wound, you’ve been unconscious for almost five days.”

He raised a hand and passed it through his hair, his breathing shaky, “I should be dead.” His eyes were full of disbelief as he took in his surroundings. You could tell he wasn’t fully convinced yet that he was safe.

“I’m not going to lie,” you reached for a water canteen, unscrewing the cap, “You should be. I don’t even know how you managed to hang on for so long. But you’re stable now, don’t worry,” you pressed the canteen to his chapped lips, “Here, drink. You need your fluids.”

He gingerly sipped from the bottle, his big hand molding over yours as he drained it in mere seconds after realizing his thirst. He looked you over, taking in your tattered, dirty rags you used for a tunic dress of sorts and your dirty brown feet. Regardless of your current appearance, he saw past the grime and took in the soft features that were stained with the harshness of war, the eyes that looked so boldly into his. If anything, he might consider you a guardian angel.

He cleared his throat, it was hoarse from disuse, “I thought this town was abandoned.”

You were removing his old bandages, your voice light, “It was, except for me.”

His interest was piqued, “Why stay?”

You smiled wryly to yourself, “I can’t seem to let go. Really though, I’m just too stubborn,” you squinted up at the clouds, the sun was uncharacteristically bright today, “Plus the other towns aren’t too friendly to outsiders. They’re afraid of spies and apparently I look like one.” You gestured to yourself with another smile, and saw his confusion and quickly added, “It’s not that bad though, I like being alone.”

He gulped, eyes scanning your face and wondering if he was just hallucinating, “Thank you for saving my life. I’m Sh-”

“Shownu,” you grinned, glancing down to his dog tags that lay on his broad chest. He gave a small smile and you were struck by how much light was in it, his eyes crinkling sweetly. A surprising feature for such a stoic face. You felt almost entranced by the warmth he put off, even to a stranger like you.

“What did you say your name was again?”

You smiled, your face flushing as you felt something kindling in your stomach, “I’m ______.”

It had been a few weeks since you first found Shownu close to death in an alley way. A few days after he woke up, you managed to salvage pieces of wood to construct a homemade crutch that could hold his weight. You remember feeling so anxious as you watched the sweat pour off him as he struggled to not put his full weight on you. He didn’t complain at all though, making your heart swell at his braveness. You didn’t realize it then, but he was beginning to chip away at your heart slowly but surely.

Shownu now stayed in your sad excuse for a house with you, his recovery going well. You only feared that the damage to the muscle and tissue around his thigh would impair his walking because he still was unable to walk around without assistance.

The two of you mostly spent long nights around a small cooking fire in your backyard, digging into cans of beans. You talked for hours on end, Shownu telling you about his life before the war and the strains of boot camp, how much he missed his parents. You listened with great interest, having not paid much attention to the war for a while now only out of spite.

“You know, I always thought all soldiers were the same, enemy or friendly,” you admitted one night. “That they only caused destruction and didn’t care for the damage they were causing others or their surroundings, their homes.” You looked wistfully down into the town. Your house was perched high on top of a hill, giving a once beautiful view of the place.

To your surprise he nodded in agreement, “You’re pretty much right. But I can tell you there are some who really do want to help, to protect.” He gave a wry smile, sadness leaking into his voice, “But most of the good men are the ones who die first.” He thought of Minhyuk and his warmth, how he always attempted to ease everyone’s worries.

You in turn told him of your life before your small town was hit by enemy forces and turned into a battleground. You told him of your mother and her selflessness, how you even had a fiance who died in the first attack protecting her. You remember crying in front of him for the first time in almost a year, built up emotions spilling out of you as you babbled and babbled on. Shownu held you, his big arms wrapping your frame into his chest and whispering softly how brave you were, that you weren’t alone anymore. Tears leaking into a shirt you had given him that your fiance once wore. So much for saying you liked being alone. You realized you craved companionship after all this time, and Shownu gave all his time to you.

It was one of those nights again, you sat huddled into Shownu’s side, his large presence comforting. The fire crackled almost cheerfully as you stared into the flames deep in thought. You didn’t want to admit it, but you were falling hard for the soldier. You doubted he would ever look at a sad thing like you as more than a savior, someone who had rescued him in his time of need. But you liked to imagine that he thought of you the same way, that he was staying with you because he wanted to, not because he needed you to move around and care for him.

You thought of how you helped him bathe earlier that day before dinner, your eyes trying to stay above the torso as you blushed at his nakedness. He noticed your nervousness and smiled secretly to himself, satisfied to see you’re hidden shy personality. You took note of how content he seemed when you were with him like that, and you felt flattered that he would allow you to see him when he was most vulnerable. You never spoke when washed him, afraid that you would begin stumbling over your tongue and making a fool out of yourself in front of him. You could tell he enjoyed seeing you flustered, and it secretly made you happier than you cared to admit.

Shownu suddenly broke the silence, fingers picking at a loose thread on his pants. “They all probably think I’m dead,” he mused, looking into the red flames. “My parents probably think I’m long gone. I’m sure by now someone in my squad alerted our captain after I went down. They don’t ever really go back to check bodies, they just see who’s still with them or not.”

You felt guilt prick at you suddenly. Should you have been helping Shownu develop a plan to get back home this whole time? Had you been keeping him prisoner without realizing it? You didn’t know what to say, so you broke the question that was weighing heavy in the air, your voice feather soft, “Do you want to go home, Shownu?”

He was silent for a few moments, a habit you now knew was him piecing together his thoughts before speaking. “I don’t know anymore.”

You remained quiet and let him continue on, “I want to see my parents again, but I also don’t want to go back to a war filled place. The capital is safe, for now, but if I go back I’ll only have to be drafted again.”

You felt anger bubble up in your chest, “But why? You should be exempt because of your injury, there’s no way they would send you out again.”

He smiled endearingly down at you, his right eye crinkling just a little more than his left, “I wish it were that simple. But the military is desperate for more numbers. Before I left, they were thinking of extending the draft both up and down, meaning younger and older people could be having to fight soon as well.”

“But,” he turned to you now, taking in your features that seemed to glow, “I don’t want to leave this place.”

Your throat felt tight, as his dark eyes penetrated you, “Why?”

“Because I don’t want to leave you, _____,” his brow furrowed and he reached a hand up to cup your cheek, “I think I love you more than anything else. Through this hell that’s happening around us, I love you.”

Your hands were shaking as you processed his words, “I-.” It was all you wanted to hear and more, but why weren’t you happy?

Oh, that’s right.

Tears spilled down your cheeks and Shownu looked down at you in concern, “_____? What’s wrong?”

Your voice was barely a whisper as you stood up slowly, “You don’t actually love me.” Your shoulders shook with the effort it was taking to not sob.

Shownu’s eyes widened in confusion, he didn’t understand at all what you meant. He thought you would be happy he finally confessed to you, having bottled up his feelings since he’d gotten to know you. He believed you felt the same way as him, why were you so upset? His voice was rough, “What are you talking about? Of course I do, how could you say that?” He struggled to stand up by himself, frustration running through him as he failed to do so, wanting nothing more than to take you into his arms and embrace you like a man. He fell back onto his bottom uncomfortably, seeing you backing away like a caged animal made his heart sink.

You didn’t know what to do, help him or leave. Your heart throbbed with sadness as you let out a strangled sob and ran back into the house, tearing through the halls until you reached your room. You didn’t even bother to close the door, knowing guiltily that Shownu would be unable to follow you. You collapsed onto the pile of blankets on the floor you called your bed and wailed pitifully. You ruined it all, what was wrong with you? Why couldn’t you just except his love and have everything fall happily into place?

You buried your face into a blanket that smelled of soot and sadness, muffling your sobs as best you could. It had only been a few minutes before you heard pained grunts down the hall and you bolted upright. There was no way in hell he’d been able to stand himself up, his crutch was propped in the kitchen at the front of the house…was he walking by himself?

You heard pants and groans, hands sliding harshly against the peeling paint of the walls as he leaned against them for support. You were afraid to stand up, afraid to confirm your thoughts. So you waited the longest minute of your life, tear blurred eyes landing on the tall figure that leaned against the frame of your doorway. 

Shownu’s shoulders sagged with effort, his hands shaking as he gripped the door frame and attempted to pull himself into your room. His voice shook, but his words were laced with conviction, “______, look at me.”

You shook your head, burying your face in your hands as your body was racked with sobs, “S-stop.” Fear and concern raced through you as you thought of all the ways he could have reopened his wound. He could be bleeding out again and you were doing nothing to make sure he was okay.

He placed a hand on his chest, fingers gripping at his dog tags desperately as if to anchor himself, “I love you, ______. I would put myself through a world of pain, drag myself from hell, just to be with you.”

“You don’t love me Shownu!,” you cried out, hands swiping furiously at your eyes. “You’re  confusing gratefulness with love!" 

He looked at you in disbelief, "Is that what you think?,” he was close to you know, on the verge of collapse. “______, I am grateful, I will be forever thankful to you for saving my life. But I didn’t fall in love with you because of that. I fell in love with _______, the girl who is stronger than any soldier, who suffered in silence by herself, who fought off this war just by existing.” He fell to his knees before you, hands coming up to grip your biceps tightly, “The girl who made me feel like the man I was before this war. Who made me remember who I was. Damn it, _____, I love you!”

His hold on your arms reminded you that even when crippled and weak, he was still strong enough to hold you this securely. Your voice was barely a whisper as you croaked out, choking on your words, “God, I love you. I love you so, so much.”

Shownu jerked you into his arms then, wrapping you up as if to try and pull you into his body. You pulled away enough to look up at him, noticing a familiar haze in his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a long time, you tugged him down into your lips. 

The soldier complied happily, surprisingly soft lips melding harshly into yours. He kissed you aggressively, desperate to feel as much of you as he could. You felt his hands slide up your back and tangle into your hair as you tugged on his simple white shirt anxiously.

He pulled away, eyes taking in your swollen lips and glassy eyes that looked up at him adoringly. “_______…”

You kissed up his jaw, nosing your way to the soft spot behind his ear as you sucked and bit gently. You heard him sigh into your kisses and you were suddenly pushed onto your back. He attacked your lips again, taking his time to kiss you passionately. His actions were sure and he stopped only to let you tug his shirt off to reveal his broad tan chest to you, which you hungrily attached your lips to. He let you mark his chest and collarbones, fingers softly stroking your shoulders as your hands wrapped around his neck. Compared to Shownu, your lips moved quickly and feverishly while his moved slowly but surely. 

He pulled himself out of your reach, making you whine softly. He smiled at this, and tucked your hair behind your ear as he whispered, “Let me show you just how much you mean to me, ______.”

You nodded and his fingers touched the tattered hem of your rag dress. Heat crept to your core as you thanked your past self for having ran out of underwear. The thin sheet you had turned into clothing was the only barrier between him and you. His touch was hot on the cold skin of your thigh and you shivered at the contrast. 

He gazed down at you seriously, his eyes hard and full of passion, “Let me make love to you.”

You blushed, having never heard those words spoken out loud to you before. A small embarrassed smile crept across your face and you laid a hand across your mouth to cover it from the heat of his gaze. You could only nod in response, afraid that you would stumble over your tongue trying to find the right thing to say back.

His fingers were quick to remove your sad excuse for clothing, face suddenly heating up as he regarded your nakedness, “You’re so beautiful.” He let his hands trail down your ribs and into the graceful curve of your hips, nails leaving light red marks. He looked down at you sheepishly, “I want to feel you.” He gestured to his pants and you realized he would need help removing them without causing himself pain. 

You sat up with a smile, moving to the side so he could lay down where you were, “Lay down.”

He settled himself back and watched you with hooded eyes as you carefully unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his legs. He couldn’t help but feel himself grow hard at the sight of you between his legs, tongue darting out to lick your lips as you helped him undress. You slid his army boots and socks off as well, throwing them carelessly behind you, causing a smile to rise to his lips. Shownu was in nothing but his underwear now and you gulped at the prominent outline of his member that was pressed against the fabric. He saw your hesitance and gently gripped your hand, bringing it down to his member and moving your hand against him. He groaned as his much larger hand covered your own and you shivered at the feel of his member twitching below you. He massaged his member with your hand and let out a long groan of satisfaction as his length strained against the tight fabric of his underwear.

You suddenly felt bold and reached up to the waistband of his briefs, fingers teasingly tracing his hips before sliding the last bit of fabric down and off his legs. You sat back on your heels and took in his body with a gasp. Tan, rippling muscle that made you feel safe just by looking at it, his chest heaving with want to touch you, and his member twitching at the thought of being inside of you.

You crawled toward him and he rolled you over, ignoring the pain that shot through his leg as he caged you into his arms below him. You looked up at him in concern, “Are you okay? Does it hurt?” He didn’t respond, but kissed the tops of your breasts tenderly, sucking briefly on the skin so that a dark pink mark sat just above your heart. You gasped when you suddenly felt his hand cup your core, a finger sliding languidly into you as you arched into his touch. 

“More,” you mewled weakly, rolling your hips into his fingers. 

He rubbed your clit, generously complying to your demands as pleasure shot through your stomach. He gave a small crooked smile, watching as you twisted beneath him and fucked back into his fingers, “So needy.”

You surprised him when you reached down and took hold of his length, pumping him to the same rhythm as his fingers sliding in and out of you. He gave a small groan and rocked into your hand, his head falling into the crook of your neck as your bodies moved in synchronization. Everywhere his bare skin touched yours made your heart race, you hadn’t had this much skin on skin contact in so long. You felt incredibly affected by every little thing he did, whether it was his moans or the feeling of his chest brushing against your perked nipples. 

Shownu’s voice shook as he retracted his fingers from your core and stilled your hand on his cock, “P-please, I need you.”

In response you hooked your legs around his leg and pulled him close enough to feel his member brush your wet folds. He gave a soft moan, taking hold of his cock and pushing into you carefully. His movements were sure as he began to rock into you slowly, his eyes shut in ecstasy as your walls sucked him in tightly. 

To your surprise he came down and embraced you, his arms sliding around you, one of his hands cupping your head and tangling in your hair. You wrapped your arms around him as well, his thrusts increasing in speed as you moved in tandem with him. He pressed butterfly kisses to your face, letting his lips trace over your skin lazily as he lost himself in the feeling of you. Your fingers scratched distinct red lines down his broad back, a moan rising in your throat as the snapping of his hips suddenly became much rougher. His power took you by surprise, your body easily manipulated by the lightest of touches.
He brought his lips to yours as he cradled your head, tongue dancing with yours as his high approached. He let out audible pants, his hips crushing into you at a neck break speed. He suddenly stilled with a shudder, filling you with his seed as he road his high out.

Barely taking time to bask in his afterglow, Shownu slipped out of you and snaked his way down your body. His lips attached to your clit, teeth teasing your sensitive bundle as he maintained eye contact with you. Your back arched as he pumped three fingers into your slickness, his voice as soft as velvet to your ears, “Come for me, _____. I want to see you come for me.”

His fingers quickened and his mouth didn’t stop working on your clit, causing you to cry out as your orgasm approached. Seeing him work at your soaked core in between your legs sent you over the edge and you came with a silent scream, head thrown to the side as the feeling washed over you. Shownu continued to pleasure you, allowing you to follow ride out your high for as long as possible.

When you finally came down, your body heaving from loss of breath, he let his lips drag up your body until he met yous. He kissed you soothingly, his arms bringing you to lay on his chest as he pulled you on top of him. You brought one of your well used sheets with you, covering your bodies from the night’s chill.

He smiled contently up at you from where you lay propped up on his chest, “I love you.”

You blushed happily, the dusty rose color of after love making a beautiful contrast to the plainness of your room. You pecked his swollen lips, “I love you more.”

You suddenly had a thought, settling into his arms, “If you want to go find your parents, it’s okay.”

He began to protest, but you quickly shushed him and grinned, “You’ll just have to take me with you.”

Shownu’s eyes crinkled as he smiled, chuckling at your demand. “You’re definitely not going anywhere _____, not without me at least.”

The two of you discussed plans for the after the war, not really caring that much for the future though because what mattered was now. Life was too unpredictable, which could be good or bad. It’s just what you happen to make of it; like turning the life of a near dead soldier upside down and consequently falling in love with him at the same time. 


Lionel Messi & Antonela Roccuzzo + selfies

“Leo Messi became even more relaxed after he began dating Antonela. It was his first girlfriend, whom he introduced to all of us. I think that they fit together perfectly. Leo spends almost all his free time with Antonella, but when he’s out on the field - he plays better and better. He definitely benefited from that relationship.

GOOD MORNING LIL BEANS !!! ( listen it’s still morning for half an hour in my time zone let me live ) anyway listen today is what i like 2 call A CLEANING DAY which means i’m going to be signing off sk.ype for a while and just doing some blog maintenance and drafts / starters !! i’ll be working more on my comprehensive bio and updating my verses page, queuing out the rest of the anonymous opinions in my inbox from yesterday, fixing my thread tracker and reorganizing it, and doing those starters and drafts i’ve let pile up for a bit too long. if you need me for anything, hit me up on tumblr im, but just know i’m probably going to be radio silent other than shitposting for a while to keep myself on track !!! i don’t like talking about this a lot bc i feel like there’s a time and a place for everything and i like to keep my personal stuff separate from my rp stuff so if you want to get into some personal shit head under the cut and if not that’s great too and i hope everyone has a wonderful and productive day !!!

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