well it's my neck but who cares i'm in the picture

Here’s some fluff for my Supernatural family, to make up for tonight’s episode. @daughter-of-the-rain-and-snow, @gneisscastiel, @jemariel, @magnificent-winged-beast, @bae-in-a-trenchcoat, @silvie111




Someone is watching him.

Even through a shroud of sleep, he can feel it – that vague tickle of awareness, prickling at the edge of his senses. Insistent. Urgent.

His hunter’s instincts are unparalleled. They’ve been honed over a lifetime of tight scrapes and desperate situations, and he’s learned to depend on them to keep him alive when everything else has gone to shit. It’s these instincts, right now, urging him towards awareness, dragging him towards wakefulness.

For several moments, he lies still, breathing deeply. He keeps his eyes closed and takes stock of his surroundings – the feeling of the blanket bunched around his waist, the softness of the memory foam mattress under him, the distinct realization that he’s not wearing any clothes, and - most conspicuous -  the soft drag of fingers up and down his arm, brushing over the crown of his shoulder before running back down. 

And, of course, that insistent feeling of being watched.

He turns his face into the pillow, grumbling sleepily.

“Cas. We’ve talked about the staring.”

The fingers pause, just for a second, before dipping into the crook of his elbow.

“Yes.”

He can feel Cas’ stare like a physical sensation, almost like he’s standing in front of a window and turning his face into the sunlight, warm and bright against his cheeks. Even with his eyes closed, he can see it - their foreheads almost touching, Cas scooted as close to Dean as possible, body curved towards him like a soft smile, blue eyes roving slowly and unblinking over Dean’s face, as if trying to memorize every line and angle. It’s both flattering and unnerving, and Dean can see it perfectly because this isn’t the first time he’s woken up like this. Not by a long shot.

“Dude, take a picture,” he huffs, mouth twitching in a smile. “It’ll last longer.”

The bed shifts, Cas’ fingers withdrawing from Dean’s skin. Dean feels their absence keenly, but he feels the space between them even more acutely, like a chasm opening up, as Cas shifts and resettles in the bed, probably trying to get more comfortable. He’s on the verge of telling Cas to settle back down already when he hears the distinct, unmistakable sound of a camera shutter.

His eyes snap open. It takes a second for them to adjust, to focus on the cell-phone poised directly in front of his face.

“…Cas, you didn’t,” he accuses.

The phone drops, revealing Cas’ face with his hair spiked up in all directions - and a small thrill travels down Dean’s spine when he remembers why - and his eyebrows pinched together, blue eyes wide and confused.

“But you told me to.”

Dean snorts and stretches, rolling his shoulders back and twisting his neck from side to side, wincing when he hears it pop. “You know damn well it was an expression, Cas, don’t you pull that ‘naïve angel’ crap with me. Who taught you how to play poker? I know all your tells, babe.” He levers himself up onto an elbow and wiggles his fingers in a ‘gimme’ gesture. “All right then, let’s see it.”

Cas glances down at the phone screen. His eyes go impossibly tender, expression melting like butter, like he’s staring at a friggin’ kitten or something. Not a good sign. 

Cas turns the phone so Dean can see, and yup, Dean was right. Sometimes he hates when he’s right.

The picture is zoomed in on Dean’s face, lighting soft. His head is turned slightly into the pillow, eyes still closed, and his eyelashes are resting against his cheeks. There’s a faint, drowsy smile quirking up the corners of his lips. His hair is sleep-mussed, his face is open and relaxed - no tight lines at the corners of his eyes, no tension in his jaw. Dean never sees that face when he looks in the mirror.  

It’s a great picture, really. He looks content, and peaceful, and downright friggin’ sweet.

“Delete it,” he demands.

Cas looks affronted. “What? Why?”

“Because I’ve got a reputation to uphold, that’s why.”

Cas’ lips purse, just slightly, in a pout. “No one’s going to see it but me, Dean.”

“Uh huh,” Dean says, unconvinced. “That’s what you said about that panty picture, and what happened with that?”

“…Sam borrowed my phone,” Castiel mutters, avoiding his eyes.

“That’s right, Sam borrowed your phone and found the picture,” Dean corrects him sternly. “He hasn’t looked me in the eye in two weeks!”

“But I’ll be more careful this time,” Castiel insists.

“No. Delete it, Cas.”

“But Dean –“

Delete it, Cas.”

There’s a pause, a moment where Dean can clearly see Castiel deliberating, his expression torn and indecisive. Then Castiel’s face clears and he meets Dean’s eyes, mouth firming into a stubborn line.

“No.”

“Cas,” Dean warns. “Delete it, or I will.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow, and Dean can see the challenge in them, clear as day: ‘I’d like to see you try.’

He snatches for the phone, but Cas, damn him, is just a little bit faster, putting those unfair angel reflexes to good use. He jerks the phone away and stretches his arm high above their heads, holding it out of Dean’s reach, but Dean kicks off the blanket and clambers on top of him, grasping for the phone.

“Give it to me!” he yells.

“No! Dean!” Castiel arches his back, trying to throw Dean off, and keeps the phone just out of reach of Dean’s fingertips. “Stop it!”

“Damn it, Cas! I mean it! Give…it…TO…ME!”

“No!”

Just as Castiel manages to pull up a knee and wedge it between them, trying to push Dean back, he hears the unmistakable slap of giant, Godzilla-sized footsteps pounding down the hall towards their room. He freezes. Castiel’s meets his eyes, mirroring his own horror.

“Dean, Cas! What’s going o-aaaaAAH!”

The bedroom door slams shut just as quickly as it had swung open, flinging a brief waft of air across the room. Dean shivers automatically, goosebumps prickling across his bare skin - his totally bare naked nude fucking starkers skin  and oh, god, he’s basically straddling Cas with his bare ass presented to the world, and the blanket is all the way on the floor where he kicked it -

“You guys are the worst!” Sam yells through the door, voice ridiculously high. Dean would’ve laughed at it if he wasn’t too busy wanting to die. “I’m moving out!”

The footsteps stomp away, a little more forcefully than necessary (Dean’s pretty sure Sammy’s trying to make a point), and Dean sags against Cas’ leg. He rolls off and flops onto his back on the mattress, throwing an arm over his eyes and groaning. Here’s to another two weeks of not being able to look his brother in the eyes.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Keep the stupid picture. The damage is already done anyways, my reputation officially can’t get any worse.”

He feels Castiel roll towards him, mattress dipping, and a hand touches his arm and rubs warm lines up and down his skin. 

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Castiel soothes, tone innocent.

Dean lifts his arm just enough to crack an eye at Castiel and shoot him a withering glare. “I hate you.”

Castiel smiles, eyes crinkling in the way that makes Dean’s chest ache, and ducks his face close to Dean’s - so close, but not close enough, the barest inch between them. His breath washes sweetly over Dean’s lips. “No, you don’t.”

Surging up, Dean closes the distance and meets his lips. 

“No,” he agrees. “No, I don’t.”

[Bungou Stray Dogs ] 55 Minutes Part 1

[Disclaimer: I’m a fairly new translator, but I’ve tried my best making sense of the story with pretty liberal, but careful decisions when it comes to making the story flow.]

If anyone’s curious about my pacing, all releases (for now) are going to focus on 14 pages each unless a chapter seems to have fewer pages than others. Because I work alone, the chapters will be released depending on my time or unless someone offers help.

BACK TO TRANSLATIONS                                              PAGE 2

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anonymous asked:

I struggle with depression and self loathing. It's like not matter what I can not lose weight. I'm 200 and I should weigh 120-125 so I'm very over weight. I want to lose weight I just am always sleeping and eating. And repeat. I just can't find the energy or motivation. And constantly I'm finding something I don't like about my body. I can't stand my double chin/neck and my breasts. Especially my breasts they're just so big and saggy. I don't know what to do. Any tips? Thank you for your time

I’m going to share some of my personal story because I feel that it’s very relevant. when I was 14-15 years old I struggled quite a bit with my weight. I gained and lost, but mainly gained. I had a lot of stress issues and insecurity, mainly because of my mental illnesses, negative comments from family, and society’s bullshit ideals. it truly just made me hate myself more. I often ate in times of stress and boredom and I also ate a lot of dairy which I am actually allergic to. 

when I was 18 years old I went back to england. I weighed roughly 200 lbs at the time, and I made the conscious decision to eat healthier and lose the unwanted weight. I genuinely thought most of my problems would go away if I got thinner. I will not lie to you, I lost the weight at an unhealthy pace. I was very sick at the time. I was suddenly underweight at 5′10 with even more problems than before.

losing that weight did not make me feel stronger. it did not make me feel more proud or accomplished. most importantly, it did not make me feel more beautiful or more desired and my problems definitely did not disappear.

the point of my story is that truly loving yourself and feeling beautiful genuinely starts with self acceptance and fat acceptance for everyone including yourself. since then I have gained 10+ lbs of healthy weight and I am still working on myself physically and mentally. having issues with body image is something that has to be worked on throughout your life. 

I have a few tips for weight loss, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with wanting to lose weight as long as you know that you are extremely beautiful at any size. even with your double chin and your saggy boobs. try to remember that boob saggage comes with weight loss- and that doesn’t make them any less cute or beautiful !!! I am not ashamed to say my boobs changed quite a bit throughout the years. I love them just the same even if I feel a bit insecure about them sometimes.

• start your journey with inspiration and motivation. surround yourself with positivity. change your phone background, put up new pictures in your room, and follow a ton of inspirational accounts. do some research and look for models at any size who inspire you. there is actually a lack of body diversity on this website so I found some gorgeous dolls that might inspire you.

diana veras

brittnee blair

anita marshall

• plan your meals ahead of time. you don’t need to cut back on portions- just add more natural healthy things into your meals. losing weight is not about restricting so eat up !!!! 

• try to avoid processed, high fat, sugar and high salted foods on the regular. save those for well deserved treats. 

• get at least 15 minutes of sun and 25 minutes of exercise every day, even if it’s just a walk around the block. getting into this habit is good for both your body and mind.

• losing weight the healthy way takes a lot of commitment and patience, but it is very much achievable and possible. you can do anything you put your mind to.

• practice self love and self care every day. forget everything negative you have been told and appreciate everything about your body. I made this weekly printable self care checklist that you can download for free if you want. 

I love you darling. I hope these are all helpful to you. please know you are more than welcome to message me anytime, and I wish you luck. remember that you are beautiful. 💖💖

anonymous asked:

I'm gonna go ahead and ask <3 i'm loving your writing. It's super fun too! I love scruffy jesus so what about an imagine or hc (whatever you fancy) of aizawa dealing with a quirkless s/o that has too much courage than what is safe for a quirkless person and at the same time seem to be extra unlucky (always finding themselves in dangerous situations by accident). Like how he would deal with the worry/exasperation of that combination lols

I hope you enjoy, i know it’s not exactly what you asked for, but nonetheless enjoy it! <3

Being quirkless wasn’t as bad as it seemed, you were like a rare animal, people just stop and wonder, ‘aww, how does it survive?’ Funny story, you don’t survive. Not having a quirk in this day and age was terribly stressful, because you’re very unlucky and have a terribly cocky mouth for someone who had trouble opening large doors. You and your boyfriend were walking through town, shopping for a birthday present for Hizashi, when Shouta received a phone call.

“I’ll be right back,” he said before wandering off, his phone pressed to his ear.

Now you could actually find something Hizashi would want. As you stepped out of the knitting store Shouta pointed out, you ran ran right into someone’s argument.

“Hikaru, just leave me alone! I’ve told you before, we’re over, now let me go!” a tall, tan skinned woman yelled. The man, Hikaru, held her by the arm tightly, refusing to let go.

Well, since you were right there, might as well put your nose where it didn’t belong. You puffed your chest, put on a brave face, and approached the much larger man with huff. His large, meaty hand had a hold of the woman’s arm, and you pried his hand off of her using all of your strength.

“I think she told you to piss off, and I’m pretty sure you at least have the comprehension skills of a five year old, so you should be able to understand that stop means to leave her alone.”

The pale man’s neck flushed with embarrassment, adding onto your internal victory. The woman shot you a thankful smile before hurrying off, leaving you alone with the brutish tower of a man. You awkwardly clapped your hands and pressed your lips together.

“Well, now that that’s settled, I should be going now. Um, you have yourself a gr- no. I hope you have a shitty day, because you don’t just man-handle women on the streets. Learn some manners before coming back into society, friend.”

As you turned around to leave, an idea of what to get Hizashi in your head, his hand shot out to harshly grip your shoulder. He flipped you so he could look at you.

“I don’t know where you get off of telling me what you just did–,”

He stopped speaking as a grungy looking piece of fabric wrapped around the back of his head. His hand released your shoulder as his eyes frantically looked to find what was happening to him.

“You really need to stop doing this every time I leave you alone for five minutes.” your boyfriend sighed, releasing the man from his quirk. The large man scurried away, leaving you with Mr. Broody.

You sheepishly smiled at Shouta, “Well, it’s kind of a long story.”

He rolled his eyes at you. “I’m sure it is. What is it this time? Did he try to steal someone’s dog?”

“No, actually. And that was one time, and it was a cute dog!

“You have to stop throwing yourself into shit like this, Y/n. I know you have a good heart and want to help, but sometimes you just can’t help.”

You bit your lip, but held your ground. “It’s because I’m quirkless, isn’t it?”

Shouta ran a spindly hand through his hair, his face now damper with the change of your tone.

“If you want the honest truth, then yes, it’s because you don’t have a quirk.” You sneered at his response, but he held up a hand to stop you before you said anything incriminating. “I don’t think you’re incapable of handling yourself, it’s just that whenever you go and pick fights, it’s with people who have fifty pounds on you. If you want to start shit, start it with someone who you could beat.”

That was oddly sweet. He was right, though. You did have a tendency to march up to the people who towered over you; but you couldn’t help it! You only did it when those particular people were being douche canoes to other people– you can’t just stand there and let them get away with it. And besides, it wasn’t like you went searching for it, it just popped into your face.

“What I’m saying is, is just be more careful. Your luck is fucking awful and your mouth runs faster than Usain Bolt. I don’t want to see your picture on a milk carton saying that you’re missing because you messed with some drug cartel.”

Shouta stood beside you and subtly hugged your side awkwardly.

“You just made your speech useless with that pathetic hug.” you smirked, nudging him with your side.

“I will lock you in the house if you don’t shut up.”

“Duly noted, mummy man, duly noted. Let’s go find that screeching cockatoo a present he’ll never forget!”

flammenmeer  asked:

Okay for your Kayleigh Lives AU - please consider this: It's summer break and Kayleigh takes her sons to the beach for vacation. (Maybe last minute booking so the four of them have to share ONE room or one of their bags got missing during the flight and it's big drama. BUT ALSO - BEACH! SUN! FUN?!)

>> The Kayleigh Lives AU <<

Omg I sidetracked so hard from your prompt i’m sorry
but consider: Kayleigh’s 50th birthday

(I just realized it might be unclear but Kevin is holding a selfie-stick lmao)

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chrisvertner  asked:

So. I know Prompto loves chocobos. Personally I'm actually terrified of the idea of them. I've been around emus and ostriches and. Big birds like that scare me so. Could you do a thing on how Prompto would react to finding out his s/o is scared of them. Though maybe they've never actually been around one up close before.

So I briefly checked the height of a fullgrown emu and I just. Holy shit.

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sfjessii  asked:

I can't decide between these two, so either, or... (would not say no to both, either, but I'm so greedy!! <3) “okay when I said I would help you with your photography assignment by being your model I diDN’T KNOW YOU’D WANT ME TO GO INTO AN ABANDONED BUILDING THATS APPARENTLY HAUNTED?” au AND/OR “watch where the hell you’re going with your extra extra large canvas, you nearly hit me- wait oh my god you’re so talented is that a jellyfish oil painting?” au

It took me a bit to come up of what I wanted to write, but here it is! I went with the first prompt but I might write something for the second one, too! :) 

Thanks for sending it! ♥♥

I apologize for the random mistakes you’ll probably find. It’s after midnight and I should be sleeping :D

Read on AO3 :)

Here’s the prompt list if you feel like sending me one :) 


“You’re kidding.” Magnus looked at the man in the passenger seat of his car. “You have to be kidding. Magnus! This looks haunted in broad daylight! There’s no way you want to hold a photoshoot there!” 

Magnus’ sly smile was all the answer he gave as Alec continued to freak out.

“And please tell me how do you know this place doesn’t have any security and we can just go inside? It looks private. And fancy. And very very  haunted.” As if on cue a stronger gust of wind made some of the older windows rattle and Magnus chuckled as Alec shivered.

“Relax. This place belongs to my dad. Well, used to, anyways.” Magnus shrugged and turned off the engine when he determined to be close enough to the building so carrying all of his equipment wouldn’t be a hassle. 

“And what happened to him?”

“He’s in jail. Did a lot of bad stuff.” Magnus was surprised Alexander hadn’t made the connection himself, it wasn’t like he was hiding who his father was. Magnus even carried his name due to some legal matters and not having enough time to change it. 

Alec gasped and looked at Magnus, all fear replaced by a softer look. “I’m sorry, I didn’t…” He bit his lip before continuing to look like he was thinking about what to say. Magnus shrugged, saving Alec from that awkward speech. There was nothing he could say that would help, anyways.

“I don’t really care, we were never close.” Magnus shrugged again and rubbed his fingers together, resting his forearms on the steering wheel. When he managed to talk Alexander into helping him wit his photoshoot Magnus wasn’t sure if the subject would come up, but he was hoping it wouldn’t have.

“I still can’t believe I let you talk me into this…” Alec murmured and Magnus took the opportunity to change the subject.

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shiroganesm  asked:

tianshan (someone else probably already asked but I'm gonna try my chance)

actually no one did, so you’ll be my guest :’) 

  • who said I love you first: He Tian. part of him is afraid Guan Shan doesn’t understand how much he cares and the other, major part of him is simply smitten with everything Guan Shan is, so the words come out instinctively. it surprises him as well, though, not the truth of it, but rather the intensity of its essence; he has been loving Guan Shan with his lips and his eyes and everything else but words, for so long, and now he’s learning to love him with vowels and consonants and it’s something so unique for He Tian, it makes his chest tight after hearing himself say it. 
  • who would have the other’s picture as their phone background: He Tian, definitely. and it takes him a long time to decide which picture to choose, because he has like 849201 pictures of him saved and yeah, that’s a tough decision. one time, just for the fun of it, he uses a pretty naughty, after-sex photo of Guan Shan, eyes closed and chest bruised and chin slightly smeared with semen, and Guan Shan almost throws his phone out the window when he finds out because what the fuck is wrong with you, but He Tian just shrugs “you looked hot the other night”. “and what if someone else sees it?” “they won’t”. but even so, He Tian sticks to adorable pictures, because he’s got a point, no one should see Guan Shan that way but him. 
  • who leaves notes written in fog on the bathroom mirror: they both do and it’s kinda hilarious; one time He Tian wrote something cheesy on it (baby?), cheesy enough to bring a bright red on his cheeks, but instead of wiping it off (and be exposed to his flustered expression), Guan Shan writes back. not the cutest thing, but for He Tian, it’s still precious. so yeah, sometimes they randomly scribble things to each other after showering and it’s just fucking domestic.
  • who buys the other cheesy gifts: definitely He Tian. jesus, he would buy so much embarrassing shit just for the sake of annoying his boyfriend. but lowkey, he wants to remind Guan Shan that he’s loved and the teasing is part of it, in its own way. and Guan Shan likes it too and he grows accustomed to it, to the point it would be weird not to receive something from He Tian once in a while. and one day, Guan Shan mans up and decides to buy something cheesy for He Tian, because if he can do it, I can do it too, though… it’s deadly embarrassing.. and when He Tian receives the gift, he cannot?? believe it? he wants to laugh but there’s a bit of redness on his face that keeps him quiet for a bit and Guan Shan notices it and holy shit, it was so worth it. 
  • who initiated the first kiss: if we’re talking about their first, consensual kiss, that would be Guan Shan. because He Tian would never force himself on him again, and he almost thinks Guan Shan will never, ever reach out, but to his surprise, it happens. the feeling of want in Guan Shan grows so much, he feels like his mind cannot work out this confusion by itself anymore and He Tian’s lips might make more sense. 

(of course I wrote too much oops)

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So, i realized i never posted one of my works here and that needs to be fixed. I based this off of a piece by @istehlurvz which can be found here. (yeah this fic is super old)

Ao3

Word Count: 2022

Summary: Just holy shit… Lance was desperate. He had an assignment due and nothing was working. What could possibly happen when he spots a cute guy running around on campus and happens to bump into him. Something good right?


Goddammit…

Nothing was working. The flowers looked flat. The birds were blurry…Even though they were just sitting there. Hell, Lance couldn’t even manage to take a different picture of a tree. And those never moved!

Ready to throw his camera in frustration, Lance groaned and fell back on the grass. He loved photography, he did, but this? This stupid freaking assignment was going to be the end of him. Might as well strap him to one of the aeronautic or astronautic majors’ rockets and launch him into space.

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anonymous asked:

gallavich prompt: can you do something where one of them has an accident and forgets who the other is? :)

// ok I’ve given this my best shot…it’s a total standalone, full on oneshot, completely unrelated to my gallavich queer club universe (but trust me there is lots more of that coming!) enjoy //

‘Im sorry Mr Gallagher but he has amnesia.’

Ian sighed. 'But he’s going to remember? It’ll come back?’

'We can’t know anything for certain. I don’t want to promise something that may not happen. You’re free to visit him now, though. He’s awake.’

So Ian walked slowly down the corridor, breathing in the harsh chemical smell of the hospital. He just wanted to get to the room and see Mickey, yet he walked slower than ever. He knew that every step he took was a step closer to discovering something terrible.

'Can I come in?’, he called, knocking on the door. The man in the bed frowned at him, confused.

'I think you have the wrong room, man,’ he said, shrugging blankly.

Ian’s heart almost stopped. 'Mickey. It’s me. It’s Ian’, he whispered, shocked.

Mickey’s eyes widened. 'How the fuck do you know my name?’, he said, his tone suspicious and body inching away from Ian in caution, who had now entered the room.

Ian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because I have loved you for just shy of eight years.’

'I’m not a fucking fag,’ Mickey spat aggressively, but his eyes were fearful.

'You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Ian muttered incredulously. Mickey had reverted back to how he was before coming out. Before even knowing Ian. He walked up close to Mickey and got up close, the words falling slowly but piercingly out of his mouth. 'I don’t know what year you think you’re in, but back in 2014, you came out. You practically screamed it. Your dad beat the shit out of us, but we won. We went home and showered together and we didn’t fuck that night. We kissed with our broken faces and just lay side by side all night. Toe to toe, head to head. I held you. I kissed away your tears. And then, Mickey, then you rested your ear over my chest and you fell asleep listening to my heartbeat.’ Mickey was staring at him, paralysed. Ian wondered if he’d gone too far, but he didn’t stop. 'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because I can’t count the number of times I’ve fucking screamed out your name each time you coaxed my body into an orgasm…which you reciprocated nicely, might I add. Usually I top. But liking what you like don’t make you a bitch, isn’t that right?’

'I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but you need to shut your fucking mouth,’ Mickey practically whimpered. Then Ian calmed down a little. He realised that this wasn’t Mickey’s fault. So he spoke softly and less aggressively.

'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because six months ago, we got married. In the park here in Chicago. Our sisters were bridesmaids. Your brothers didn’t show up. But mine became yours. Lip was my best man. Kev was yours. And Yev was ring bearer. Your son - our son.’ Mickey was speechless. 'He’s almost five. And these are the rings he carried down the aisle to us,’ Ian said, holding up his hand to show the thick, plain silver band snug on his fourth finger. Then he tentatively reached out to run his thumb over Mickey’s identical ring. Mickey instinctively snatched his hand away like Ian’s touch burned him. 'In your vows, you told me that you loved me beyond any and all things. And you told me again later, when it was just us, because I still couldn’t believe it. It felt like a dream. Because I love you too, Mickey. So, so much,’ Ian told him, tears in his eyes, desperate. He clasped Mickey’s hand now and held on, his husband’s hand, the hand he knew better than his own, as he cried silently.

Mickey stared at their hands, fingering the ring on his finger, frowning. 'I don’t know where to even begin…they told me I had some amnesia but…how could I forget so much? There’s just, years and years missing. Years with you, apparently. You don’t seem like the sort of guy I could forget’, he whispered.

Ian raised his eyebrows. 'Was that - are you flirting?’ he almost laughed.

Mickey looked away awkwardly. 'Look, I know I’m gay. I’ve always known. I never kiss guys. Don’t want them to get attached…well. I don’t want to get attached to them, honestly.’

'You kiss me plenty. All of that playing-it-straight crap went to shit after a couple years with me.’

'Am I really married? To you?’ Ian reached for his wallet.

'I’ll bring more pictures from home, tomorrow - but I always have this one with me. This is us. Last May.’ Ian showed him the little rectangular picture.

'We look good,’ Mickey remarked, but the two men in tuxes with matching grins looked like strangers to him. There was a pause. 'Do I really have a kid?’

'Yes. He’s here,’ Ian said, flipping the pockets of the wallet over and revealing a photo from a year or so ago, of Yev sat on the couch at Ian and Mickey’s place. 'Yevgeny. We all call him Yev.’

'What kind of a -’

'Russian.’

'Why?’ Ian considered how to answer. 'Who’s his mother?’

Ian sighed. 'It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another day.’ Mickey didn’t persist.

'How did we meet?’

Ian smiled. 'It was 2011. We were still living out our teenage years, though yours were nearly over. You thought I’d - hurt your sister and you just burst into the shop where I used to work, screaming out my name. Wouldn’t be the last time you did that…anyway. We didn’t really meet until I came to your place one morning. We started out fighting, pretty hard, but then you pinned me down and - I just remember our eyes locked and we just stared at each other, and we just knew. And then we were just doing it. Fucking in your twin bed. I was fifteen. Shit.’ He sighed. 'We kept hooking up in secret. Always rushing through the sex. Terrified of getting discovered. That was more you than me, but still. We didn’t even kiss for, like, two years. Not that I didn’t try. But we used to flirt shamelessly. That was more me than you. You were nothing like anyone I’d ever known. I didn’t think you could exist. But you did. Eventually you seemed to just accept that you wanted me and you weren’t going to deny yourself pleasure anymore. It was literally destroying you, Mick.’

-

Ian had gone to get them both coffee. On the walk back, he reflected. It was still unbelievable. And unfair. But when hadn’t things been with them? He didn’t know how he could tell Mickey everything. Svetlana. Terry. His bipolar. The accident. How could everything about them have been wiped clean out of his head?

As he returned, he was broken out of these thoughts by Mickey’s voice ringing down the corridor. He was…singing? Ian listened.

'And I don’t want the world to see me, cos I don’t think that they’d understand’, Mickey sang, scratchy but pure.

Ian stood in the doorway, frozen. Mickey noticed. 'Are you ok?’, he asked.

'Mick…why were you singing that song?’, he asked in a choked whisper.

Mickey shrugged. 'I don’t actually know. I seem to remember it from somewhere. And it’s - it’s nice. I guess,’ he said, puzzled. 'Why?’

Ian stepped inside the room slowly. 'That was the song we danced to at our wedding. It’s our song, it’s our fucking song’, he said, then sang the next line, voice shaking, 'when everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.’

They didn’t say anything. They just stared at each other, both searching for things that the other didn’t know how to give.

Mickey slowly slipped off the ring and held it. 'So I can remember our wedding song but not the wedding’, he murmured bitterly.

Ian noticed Mickey’s eyes fill with tears. He knew him well enough to know that any second he would begin crying. He walked over and held Mickey, not caring if the gesture was too sudden - if his husband was crying, he was going to comfort him. Sure enough, Mickey gave a loud sob, then tears fell down his face as he began to cry. Ian absentmindedly stroked his neck, planted little kisses in his hair; it was second nature. 'Sorry,’ he said after a moment, worrying Mickey would react adversely to the affection.

Mickey shook his head. 'It’s fine. It’s - nice. That’s not it.’

'Then what?’

'It’s just…I want to remember it, all of it. Not only for my sake but for yours too, this isn’t fair to either of us’, Mickey sobbed.

Ian nodded. 'I know. I know’, he said, feeling tears sting his own eyes. After everything they’d been out through, this just felt like the sickest, most fucked up twist of fate.

Mickey slowly turned and looked at Ian. He had somehow ended up curled against Ian’s chest, a familiar position. They were so close; Ian could feel his breath on his neck and it took all the strength he had not to kiss Mickey. It was too soon, it was too soon, he kept telling himself.

But then Mickey reached up, slowly, tracing the outline of Ian’s face. Tentative at first, then coming to cradle Ian’s face in his palm. Mickey’s eyes fell to his lips.

'Oh fuck,’ Ian murmured, and gave in. He kissed him hard, and then Mickey returned the kiss, deepened it. Ian’s hands ran through Mickey’s hair and they really tasted each other. Ian couldn’t get enough of him, no matter how familiar he was. That was the beauty of it.

'Your kiss. I’ve had it before’, Mickey said breathlessly.

Ian smiled. 'My lips are clearly a pretty unforgettable experience’, he smiled through his tears. Mickey laughed.

-

Mickey had fallen asleep in his arms and Ian had stayed, holding him. It reminded him of old times, before the accident. They lay together on the bed, Ian breathing in the same old smell. The blood and the hospital couldn’t erase it; it was, unmistakably, home.

'Ian? Are you awake?’, he whispered.

Ian looked down at his husband. 'Yeah. I’m here.’

'I just want to say. I’m - I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be’, he said.

'It’s not your fault’, Ian began, but Mickey cut across -

'regardless. I’m sorry. And when the doctor sees me tomorrow, I’m going to find out how I can beat this thing - if I can. If I can’t, well…’, he trailed off, unsure what would happen.

'Then we’ll work through it. I vowed to take you in sickness and in health’, Ian reminded him. 'God knows you’ve done that for me. Look, I love you, Mickey. I will always love you. And I know you’ve forgotten how to love me, but I’ll remind you. I want you to remember, to feel it all again’, he whispered, kissing his neck.

Mickey smiled. 'Thank you, firecrotch,’ he muttered as his eyes closed, drifting back into sleep.

Ian’s heart jolted and he closed his eyes, grinning, as more tears came. 'You’re on your way back, aren’t you,’ he whispered, kissing Mickey’s forehead gently. He didn’t think his old nickname had ever made him cry before.

But that was their relationship. Expect the unexpected. Always.


// the end! PLEASE keep sending me prompts, I gotta write every day this month! //

“The Blessing” Milathos Fic 2.10 Spoilers (For Athos On His Knees)

Athos knelt down at the church, looking around at the strange lack of ornamentation. The English, with their banishment of Catholicism, seemed to have a cold, empty faith.
It suited him.
Their mission had failed. The Duke was unpersuaded to join the cause against the Spanish. It had been a waste of a trip to England.
“Can you hear God, then, Captain?”
Athos closed his eyes, as her scathing, biting, bitter voice echoed around the stone chapel. Oh God. Oh God.
“No,” he answered. The first words he had spoken directly to her since they’d arrived in this dank, grim land. Since he had first seen her, laughing and beautiful on the Duke’s arm, and then horrified, stricken, when he had stepped into the English court flanked by the others. “I hear him very infrequently.”
“Perhaps when you are back in France, amongst your brothers-at-arms ready to die for honor, and glory, or whatever else they promise men to bomb and burn another land’s villages, then,” she continued. He could hear the rustle of her skirts behind him, approaching him. He moved to put a knee up and rise.
“No. Stay on your knees.”
He obeyed. If someone had asked him why … She came up beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the rich silk of her dress. He could smell her. Jasmine and roses, now, no forget-me-nots. She stepped onto the dais above him. He couldn’t bring himself to raise his head.
“You must be proud,” she assumed, her voice the cold and silky tone he had come to hate and fear. “You have at last, everything you could want. Responsibility earned, respect and love from your comrades. I’m sure you’ll run off and perform well in this farcical war of theirs, for their fool of a king.”
He bristled with anger at her diminishment of his sacred charge. “I will do my duty and protect my country.”
She laughed. It was a sound that could shatter glass with its wealth of disdain and hurt. An abomination of the joy laughter was supposed to embody. “Yes. I’m sure fighting some war over the king’s hurt pride and that vile man’s machinations will surely protect all the peasants and villagers who will die not knowing why the brave soldiers raided their farms and raped their women.”
Athos looked up at that, he did. “I will not allow that kind of— it won’t happen like that.”
She was facing away from him. Her dress was lovely, all purple and cream. Her hair was barely up, held away from her face only by a lace-like ring of gold. The fading sun through the windows drenched her in light. Like that day. “Yes, I’m sure you’ll save many innocent maidens who will throw themselves at your feet. You’ll return in glory, and the King will vaguely praise you before you go back to the garrison to rejoice with your loyal men.”
Athos swallowed. She painted a fair picture indeed. Yet she made it seem petty and foul with each word. He could see, even through the brilliant light falling through the windows painting her red-gold, that the planes of her face were sharp, angled. The hard mask of Milady was back in place. He wanted to say he was sorry. He wanted to tell her he had waited for her. He wanted to tell her that seeing her again was sweet bliss, because she was alive, and beautiful and laughing. He wanted to say that seeing her again, alive, and beautiful, and laughing in another man’s arms, was torture, that gutted him and left him empty for any Spaniard’s blade. He wanted to say that he realized too late what she had always known. That he loved her, now and forever.
“I might die,” he said instead, looking up at her like a penitent with sins to confess and no real hope for absolution. And, perhaps, no desire.
She turned to him, and the light struck his eyes so that for a moment he was in the dark. Then her hand was in his hair, and his head was arched up. It was rough, and it was what he deserved. And her face was visible now, and oh God.
Her eyes were as green and verdant as he remembered in his dreams, every night. She swallowed, and the scar on her neck showed beneath the thin satin ribbon about her throat. She opened her lips as if to speak, and only let out a long breath that carried her scent.
“No.” She refused him. Her hand in his hair held him firm. “You will not.” She took a step down, before his enraptured gaze, her mouth drawn with certainty. It brought her closer, so that he felt her chest heave against his face, and the tips of her curls brush his forehead.
The one hand stayed holding him harshly, but her other rose, hesitant. In pure contrast, it was gentle, soft on his face, as she threaded it into his hair. Unbidden, unworthy, he reached his own hand up to touch her, to lay his palm against the back of her stiff corset, and feel her shudder. “Anne …”
Her hair came down like a curtain as she accepted him, for that moment. He felt her lips against his ear, almost a kiss, never a kiss. “I don’t know if God recognizes our marriage anymore,” she practically hissed, half-gasped. “I don’t care if the Devil answers this prayer. You come back to me alive, Captain Olivier D’Athos de la Fere. Or I swear, wherever you are sent, I shall bring hell myself to haunt you.”
Athos closed his eyes and breathed her in, held her tightly, savored her, alive, yes, alive here with him now. And once again he made a promise he could not know if he would keep.
“I swear.”

V. Ramen

Also Called: Marie Will Be the Death Of Me.
Prompt: Marie (@harrycarryme) cheered me up with something about her ramen not being done, and harry wearing all black suit and white button up, here’s to her!



In which thanks to Harry, all Marie gets is hard noodles, sext, and a lot of sex to recover for lost time


You were only wearing a thin shirt and PJ shorts, it was a bit cold. It was 5pm and you had just woken up from a power nap after mind-blowing sex with your boyfriend of 2 years, Harry.

You sighed slightly thinking back to the previous events, he’d just arrived earlier that morning from a Dunkirk media tour trip, and as soon as you got home, he was already a bit rested and wasted no time pulling you into his arms and fighting over dominance on your way up the stairs to make up for lost time.

After a nice session of slow rough love making, you were spent, and so was he, and you both silently agreed to sleep in, at least until Harry had to leave again for a quick meeting.

Keep reading

"I found someone's graduation ring, and I'm trying to find out who's it is" AU- Annabeth

•after a horribly terrible day at her internship she takes the subway home and drops all her bags on the floor.

•since her stop is coming up she hurriedly grabs everything and throws them into her bag, which she believes she may have accidentally scooped up a a half eaten cheeseburger too, but she’ll deal with that later.

•when she gets back to her apartment that she shares with her roommate Piper, she dumps her bag to make sure she has everything. 

•she does; but she’s also picked up a few extra things. A scarf, an earring, an unopened condom (thank the gods), and a class ring

•Annabeth is mesmerized by the ring. It obviously belongs to a guy, it’s large and has a deep green stone set in the middle, there’s writing on the inside which she assumes is a name, and she can vaguely make out a ‘P’, ’S’, and an 'E’. Which she finds to be an extremely odd grouping for a name, if it is a name. she also thinks it might be a school motto, most likely in Latin. It also included on the sides a rearing horse, and a trident.

•Upon further inspection she can tell its a very nice ring, one that a person would get from a college or university, not the cheaper versions someone might get from graduating high school.

•Piper tells her she should go pawn it so they can buy a pizza, but Annabeth can’t bring herself to throw it away or even Pawn it. It was obviously worn pretty often but it lacked scratches or scuffs, so she expects it was well taken care of.

•she decides to put it on her desk for now and decides she’ll look into it to try to find the owner.

•it’s been 2 weeks and that damn ring has occupied all her attention. The initials make no sense and doesn’t translate into any known school mottos, There isn’t any school with a horse or a trident for a mascot or symbol, she even went as far as looking through a book of baby names to see if they made any name…and that was a big bust. She’s been debating on putting up a 'found flier’, but Piper looked at her like she had officially gone insane, so she opted out of that option.

•She’s become fond of the ring and wears it around her neck, right next to her fathers class ring. 

•It’s been about 2 months since she found the ring and Annabeth has since given up on trying to find the owner. On one particular day she leaves a Starbucks and see a guy with a skateboard going from post to post and putting up fliers. Her curiosity gets the better of her and she looks to see what he’s looking for.

•and here on the flier is a picture of her ring. The one she’s wearing around her neck. She panics for a second because, well she doesn’t want to give the ring back. It has become almost like her good luck charm. Ever since she started wearing it everything has started going right. She was offered a position at the architect firm she’s been interning at (which she was sure was going to be given to the other ass kissing stuck up intern), her landlord FINALLY fixed their ventilation system, and her dad has been calling her more often and wanting to reconnect. She Really doesn’t want to give the ring back.

•so she does something she knows she’ll regret, she starts taking down all the signs she come across. 

•but the next day, she sees him putting them back up.

•this ends up becoming a pattern, he puts them up, and she yanks them down.

•this goes on for about 2 weeks, she was taking one down and turned around to be met with very upset, angry, and confused green eyes. “So you’re the one who is taking down my fliers….why?”

•Annabeth thinks about different scenarios; should she run away? No, he still has that stupid skateboard, he’d catch her; how about pretending not to speak English? Those lessons her mom gave her in Greek might work…no, she can’t even remember her name with those eyes staring at her..

•"hello? Umm, are you ok?“ Look I didn’t mean to make you cry, I was just curious, that ring is really important to me”…wait was she crying? She definitely was, she was actually crying?! She hasn’t cried since her parents divorced when she was 7! 

•"I’m not crying! I just have something In my eye! And what’s the deal with putting up a flier for a ring?! I mean come on are you 7?! And why after it’s been missing for so long? Are you trying to ruin everything?!“

•and of course my outburst causes a commotion and he’s the one apologizing and getting angry looks from passerbys.

•"look I’m sorry, I just, I found your ring like 2 months ago on the subway”- I pull out the ring off the necklace and show him-“I was originally trying to find the owner, but this ring makes no sense, I couldn’t figure out who it belonged too, and I was going to make fliers…but I thought, well more like was told, that was crazy. So I kept it and it’s been my good luck charm ever since”

•he looks dumbstruck…a cute dumbstruck…a very cute dumbstruck… But then he starts to smile and then laugh. I wait for him to laugh it out. “Ok ok, it’s hilarious, take your ring so my life can go back to being mediocre please.”

•he gives me a snarky grin “how about in thanks for finding my ring I treat you to some coffee? Or I could buy you dinner if you want, or how about both? Yeah both sounds good”

•now it’s her turn to look dumbstruck “ok….?” “Awesome,come on theres a great shop I know about 2 blocks away, oh what’s your name?” “….Annabeth…OH! what the heck does P.S.E stand for? Is it Latin or your initials? And you don’t look like you should be old enough to have a ring like this, did you steal it or something?” “He laughs "it actually belonged to my dad, Poseidon, my mom gave it to me for my 12th birthday, after dad died, so….yeah…my name is Percy by the way”

•2 years later Piper gives a wedding toast: “…and I told her to pawn the thing so we could get a pizza, good thing she didn’t! I guess it was her good luck charm after all!" 


-ok so this kind of sucks but I had fun writing it! I can’t layout a story for nothing so yeah here it is in bullet form. I hope everyone enjoys my attempt!

I'm Sorry

“Baby, you think you could be my little IHOP cook and make us some pancakes?”
Rosa smiles at me as we both lie on top of the white covers and the sun shines through the blinds in our new apartment. Her playful giggle brightens up the room more than any sun could. I watch my wife of three months stretch a bit and I look at the clock.
“10:23 on a Saturday morning, there’s no other place I’d rather be than with that beautiful girl in that picture.”
“Steven, you always try to butter me up when you want breakfast, like you don’t know I’m ready to make whatever my handsome hubby wants.” She picks up our wedding picture and smiles.
“I’m so happy we have each other” she says to me before putting the picture back down by the alarm clock.
Rosa goes in the closet and puts on my blue and white Calvin Klein striped button down shirt and walks into the kitchen. I turn my head to the right to look out the window. Shiny windows reflecting the apartments across the street. Before Rosa turns the countertop television on in our kitchen, I close my eyes and hear the traffic 24 stories below, on the sidewalk and in the street. Someone yelling for a taxi, subway cars going under the pavement forcing hot air to rush the the vents below people’s feet, street performers banging on big buckets to collect working people’s money. I remember one time, on my way to the train, I saw those guys playing a drum beat for the first time. I thought it was the most amazing thing. I gave them ten dollars. Two days later, they’re playing the exact same beat. I was so upset, they couldn’t even make a different rhythm for the same block? And to think I didn’t even get breakfast that morning I gave them money. I can’t stand street performers. They’ll never get another red cent from
“Steven!”
“Yea, Rose?”
“We don’t have any milk for the pancakes!”
Her whining tone is still pretty cute after marrying her, elongating the last syllable of her sentences will forever be adorable to me. I sit up in our bed and yell out, “Don’t worry, love. I’ll head down the block to the Rite Aid and get some milk. It’ll only take me a minute. Just relax until I get back.”
“Okayyy. Oh! Don’t forget to bring back some Post-Its and one of those mini-Sharpie markers if they have it.”
“Dark blue?”
“My favorite color!”
I head out the apartment and for the elevator doors to close. I just realized my headphones are back in the apartment. Oh, well. I’m not going back there, I’m already in the elevator. I look back at my phone to see a text from Rosa, “U better hurry bak. Bacn is waiting”. I chuckle to myself while other tenants get on the silver moving room. I start to leave the building before the front desk seat warmer aka Harry shouts across the lobby, “Hey Mr.Cross!” I keep my head down as his voice bounces off of the marble walls. “Hello to you too, Harry.” You give a guy tickets to a baseball game one time and he thinks you’re best friends. I hate velcro associates. Stuck to you like little puppy dogs because no one wants to be their friend. Oh well, I only see him 20 seconds a day and feign interest in whatever conversation he tries to hold with me.
I take the long way round the block to get to Rite Aid, I can’t stand being near the sidewalk drummers. The crowded squares full of pedestrians take me along with them. I look up at where my apartment is while I go down the block, hoping to catch a glance of my spanish princess when I bump into some photographer.
“I’m sorry man, I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
I when I look down, I saw his wallet’s on the cement. I go to get up but by the time I look up, he’s gone. I turn my head to see if I can find him, nothing. Nothing at all. I can’t see that mid-forties guy with the Polaroid style camera. How could he disappear so quickly. I mean, I know there’s a lot of people on the block, but no way could there be that many. And he left is wallet. I’ll just mail it to him when I get the chance later today. Better hurry up and get this milk now, I got food and beauty waiting for me.
I head to the “cold section” of the store as Rosa likes to call it and I pass the Ben & Jerry’s different flavors of ice cream, coupled by some Starbucks coffees sold in tall glass bottles before I see some gallons of milk. While on line, I can’t help but want to find out who bumped into me on the street. I hold his wallet right before it’s my turn to get rung up. A tattered light brown wallet, three fold sections, held closed by velcro. Some scratches decorate the outside of the wallet. Maybe he fell on it a few times, or he could have went rock climbing, trying to get some pictures of the sun and it could have fallen out. Maybe one of these scratches happened when we collided.
Oh! The markers. I search for the small marker amongst the last minute purchases they try to trap you with. All I see are Snickers, 5 Hour Energy’s and 5 gum. I guess I can’t get her everything she wants. At least I got the Post-Its for her.
I head out back to the lobby, groceries on my wrists and the stranger’s wallet in my hands. I press the up button, waiting for the elevator about to open the guys wallet when I hear, “Mr.Cross!” I close my eyes and sigh.
“Yes, Harry?”
“You got a letter while you were gone. A gentleman came in and said to make sure to give it to you before you got upstairs.”
“Um…okay. Can I have it?”
Harry looks at me with a stupid, somewhat lost look before coming back to reality. “Oh yeah! Just uh, just one second.” The portly 36 year old runs back to his desk, almost crashing into a little girl with her mother.
“So sorry! I didn’t see you there.”
He takes careful steps around the family.
“C'mon Harry. Remember, no running in the lobby. No matter how important. You represent the building that’s what Mr.Barton said when he hired you. Get it together.”
As he continues his one man pep rally to himself, the elevator door opens. I’m starting to grow even more impatient. I see a text from Rosa, “When r u coming baaaaaaaack? :c(”
“Harry, this can really wait. I gotta head back up to”
“Got it!”
He holds up the envelope like a child who just won a scavenger hunt with the last piece of treasure. Hand raised in the air, squeezing tightly on the paper but trying his hardest not to crumple it up.
“Thanks Harry.”
“Oh, you’re welcome Mr.Cross!”
I don’t think I’ll ever see a stupider grin on an adult male’s face. As I turn back to the elevator, I see the red numbers above ascending every few seconds.
“^ 3 ^”
“^ 7 ^”
“^ 16 ^”
Ugh, I cannot wait to get back into this apartment.
“I’ll be right up, I’m waiting for the elevator. Got held up by Husky lol”
I press send on the phone as the plastic bags start to cut into my wrists. I readjust myself and read the face of the envelope which reads “Mr.Steven Cross” It has no address on it or name for who it’s from. Just a hand-written name, either they were rushing or can’t write very well. I open to the paper inside. Just two words.
“I’m sorry”
What could this mean? Who sent this? I look over to where Harry was and he’s no longer there. Lost in this sea of tenants. Oh well, the elevator is back anyway. I enter it alone as I wait to reach my floor and decide to open up the wallet now that I ave a few seconds to myself on this slow elevator. No money. No cards. No ID. What’s with this? Maybe that’s why he didn’t care that he dropped it. Nothing important was in here anyway. I dig through the pockets a little more and find one folded piece of paper.
“Find the target. Once the target is engaged, execute and you will be relieved of your duties. If you refuse, another one dies, and one more will continue to die each day until you finish your assignment.”
Now my heart is pounding. What on earth do they mean “execute”? What target? Who’s dying? Too many thoughts race through my head and I glance back at the envelope in my other hand.
“I’m sorry.”
As I stare at the note, a picture falls out of the guy’s wallet. I almost drop everything. Why is there a picture of me leaving the apartment? It’s from this morning. These are the same clothes I’m wearing now!
“I’m sorry.”
The elevator door opens, frightening me in my new panicked state. I slowly step out about to get my keys when I see my door is cracked open. I lay the bags outside of the door and try to open it as quietly as possible. Everything seems normal at first glance. Maybe I just didn’t close the door all the way. I walk through the living room, over to the kitchen to see what I would never have dreamed of.
“Rosa! Baby, say something, please!”
The pan of bacon on the tile floor being surrounded by a pool of blood leaking from her neck and back.
“Baby. No. I…”
I pick up her body, my shirt soaked red and blood starting to move through the intersections of our square tiles with each second. I start to look for my phone, too stressed and excited to realize that it’s in my hand. I search around the apartment and I see the camera. The camera that the photographer had, the one who bumped into me. The sight of the blood stained knife next to it almost made me vomit. I find two pictures by it on the kitchen counter. One of an envelope with “Mr.Steven Cross” on it and a picture of Rosa, taken from behind the couch. That monster. I’m gonna wring his neck when I find him. I’m gonna make him pay for this. As I pick up the camera, I find a note attached to the bottom.
“The wallet has your instructions in it. If you do not complete your task within 24 hours or you try to contact the police, you will face the consequences.
Sincerely, Waste Management”
I drop to my knees. What can I possibly do? I can’t kill another human being. Oh God, Rosalina. Why couldn’t I have been there to protect you? I finally remember that my phone is in my pocket and start to dial 911. The phone rings and a deep voice answers.
“Mr.Cross. We know that you have faced an ordeal but you must think before you act. We warned you that another loved one of yours will die if you try to contact the authorities. Now, we will give you a second chance but you now have 12 hours to execute your assignment or your mother will be getting a visit from us tonight. Waste Management will not tolerate insubordination. The clock is ticking”
The phone hangs up.


~~~~~~~~

I cannot wait to get in my bed. Today’s zumba class was intense, but I always have fun. And the instructor always compliments me.
“Clarissa, good way to keep the energy up.”
“Clarissa, looking good.”
I’m ready to knock out though. I have to get home quick. I finally get a taxi to notice me. He pulls up to the curb but when I get in, another guy steps in the cab with me.
“Um, we can share the ride. I can’t wait for another one.”
I don’t want to share it at all but seriously, I am beat. He looks at me nervously for a second.
“Go ahead, you take it.”
That was a bit weird, but whatever. Cab to myself. Home here I come. I love the city at night, the lights just look so pretty. The smoke rising from manhole covers is always my favorite thing to see at night. I cannot wait, however to see my little girl. Karina has been talking all week about her second grade spelling bee. I know she’s going to talk my ear off but I love when she’s excited.
I’m about to get out the cab when I realize there’s a wallet left in the seat next to me. Maybe that guy who came in the car with me left it. I’ll just take it with me, I can send it to the address tomorrow. I walk up to the third floor of my apartment building and find a note taped to my peephole.
“Ms.Clarissa Oliver”
That’s weird, it doesn’t say who it’s from. I open it up and there’s only one page with two words on it.
“I’m Sorry.”

High School!Mike being in your photography class and him being assigned as your partner on the final project. After 2 days of arguing on what to do and how, you both finally figure out what you’re going to do. Deciding to go to your house after school that Friday to take the final few pictures and edit them. Not knowing what to expect from the loud, annoying girl that put up with no ones shit, Michael was a little frightened. After arriving at your house, you both started to set up the cameras.
“Hold on, I hate a quiet house.” You said before leaving him alone in your kitchen as you go to grab some old CDs. He had finished setting up yours and his camera by the time you returned with the stack of 6 CDs.
“Do you think it’s gonna take up 6 albums to get this done?” He asked, thinking you were doubting his photography skills.
“No, but I’m assuming I’m going to end up feeding you at one point and who knows how long that’ll take. You could be here all night for all I know.” You laugh as you put the first CD in the stereo system. You saw a small smile rise on his face as the first song played.
“Bowling for Soup. Nice”
“Well, a loud child needs loud music.” You say while patting his cheek before grabbing your camera and slipping out the backdoor to start. He laughs before following suit.
“MIKE, HURRY! THIS IS REALLY GOOD LIGHTING!” You yell before snapping a picture of the old, semi falling apart fence that separated your backyard and the neighbors. He smiled a big toothy grin before getting a very detailed picture of the half dead plants that seem to haven’t been watered in two weeks. He looked up to see your frame strutting across the yard then proceeding to take a picture of the squirrel who had stopped halfway up a tree. He couldn’t help himself. He had to snap a picture of you. “Clifford? Our project is about nature. Not me.” You said, kinda confused on why your partner was talking a picture of you.
“Sorry I just umm- uhh-…”
“I get it, I looked good as always. Now would you please focus.” You say before walking to the front side of the house.
“Damn.” He said before taking laying down to take a picture of mushrooms surrounded by grass. 30/40 pictures later, you had both gotten more than enough. “Hey we should get these download on the the computers.” He said as he met you halfway through your house. You agreed and plugged your camera in. After both had completely downloaded you had a suggestion.
“You know how earlier I said I’d pry be feeding you?”
“Yeah, why?”
“You have a better eye at this than I do, plus you’re WAY better at editing than I am. So you should do that and I’ll make supper?” You glanced at the clock to know that if it was actually about supper time. ‘6 pm. Ok that makes me feel better.’ You thought to yourself.
“Fine with me.” He said, shrugging slightly before turning back to the computer. You let out a small huff before rummaging through the freezer.
“We’re having pizza.” You say, knowing the blonde boys love it.
“YES! YOU ARE A GODDESS!” He exclaimed while throwing his hands up in the air. You laugh before turning the oven on, allowing it to preheat. You noticed the quietness of your home before slipping another cd in. You hear the roar of laughter come from the living room as he figures out what CD he was being forced to listen to. “High School Musical? Seriously?”
“HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL IS THE GREATEST MOVIE OF OUR GENERATION AND IF YOU DONT THINK SO, THEN FIGHT ME!” You yell across the house, half joking, half serious. He took a break from sorting and editing the pictures to come eat. And dance of course. You alternated between Troy and Gabriella, in an almost perfect duet. At the end of “Just Wanna be With You”, he had is arms wrapped around his waist and yours around his neck, noses slightly touching.
“You cheesy mother fucker.” You say before leaving his grasp as well as him in stitches. By the time he could compose himself, you’d already eating half a slice of pizza. You set the slice down on your plate as he moved toward you. He wrapped his arms around your waist again as you placed yours on his neck, the two of you in the same position as before.
“This is gonna be cheesy as fuck and I don’t even care.” Michael says before gently placing his lips on yours. “I think I agree with you.” He says after pulling away, leaving you confused. “The hell are you talking about Clifford?” “High School Musical is definitely the greatest movie of our generation.” You let out a loud laugh before placing your lips back on his.


HIGH SCHOOL!5SOS BLURB NIGHT FOR shitmike IM SORRY THIS BECAME A LOT LONGER THAN I INTENDED BUT I LOVE IT

"You're not weak, and I'm here" Gally Imagine (fluff)

(Dedicated to Maddie)

Three times. Three times this week have I woken from a nightmare.

Tonight was one of those nights, but the difference from other ones was tonight Gally was here, sleeping right next to me. I looked over at him, and in dim light I could faintly see his face—for it was so peaceful, his eyes shut relaxed and his chest calmly rising up and falling down, as if his breathing were steady waves of the ocean.

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Alix and Charlie

As analyzed here, I had a theory that Alix’s pocket watch gift from her father may have been a kwami-less Miraculous Stone. The fact that the watch had been in the family for generations (a theory I was curious to connect to about here, where there were previous Ladybugs, kwami’s are immortal, and the previous theory that Marinette got her earrings, Miraculous Stones, from her family storage, meaning, kept in the family) is one hint. Another is the intent that her father said it was given to their family kids when they turn 15 (it’s clear Marinette and Adrien didn’t get their stones not that long ago based on preview trailers). Although why the watch was never given to Charlie, being the eldest, is beyond me for right now.

BUT.

What if instead of the pocket watch, Charlie on his fifteenth birthday was given this:

Now, it could be a trinket. We don’t know where it came from or how Charlie got it. It certainly fits with his interest, like his father, in Ancient Egypt. So it is not entirely unreasonable to think that its just a trinket he got while at another museum on Egypt or from a tourist trip from Egypt, considering his intense interests. But I don’t believe that. I don’t believe a guy who dives into the ground to save it from breaking, would value a trinket so much. His first concern when he got up was that it wasn’t broken.

He clearly cares and worries about his necklace if he’s willing to dive bomb to save it from a crack.

That’s why I would theorize that the necklace might be what Charlie got for his fifteenth birthday from his father, like Alix and her pocket watch. It does nothing special nor glows (as far as we know) but Marinette’s earrings are pitch black and Adrien’s ring is solid, plain white until they activate it for transformations. So it could be in a state of inactivity without a kwami, similar to Alix (although her’s glows but does not transform her).

Both the pocket watch and scarab jewel were the objects most cared for by Alix and Charlie and something they kept on their persons at all times (like Marinette’s earrings and Adrien’s ring). Alix brought it with her to the race even though that is no place for a pocket watch. While Charlie seems to keep it around his neck. These were both cared for items that got infected by the Navi and turned them both into akumas.

Now, because we don’t know where he got his scarab necklace we can’t know if its from his father, or even if it’s from generations in the family.

Yet, I had this thinking because of the fact that Alix and Charlie are the only other kids with a family we now know who everyone is. Marinette is the only other one. We know her, her mother and her father. You can count Adrien, but I don’t since even though his mother is out of the picture we don’t know why or who she is, so we don’t know Adrien’s full family set.

Anyway, the point is, this family has been placed in the spotlight for some reason by the creators. We know all the family members. Alix is Timebreaker. Her mother we met in that same episode and who we know reports on the news about villains. Her father as well in that episode and in Charlie’s episode, who is an Egyptologist and set up the exhibit on King Tut at the Louvre. Then, similarly, Charlie has an avid interest in Ancient Egypt, assists his dad (assuming), and is Pharaoh. We know all about this family so far, unless a surprise sibling shows up later. But until then, this is the whole family. And we learn this all pretty early on. It took us four episodes from Mr. Agreste’s introduction to learn he was a famous fashion designer.

Not to mention, we have gotten two full episodes concerning this family, both about the kids. I’m not saying they’re important, but I’m saying they’re important. And I am saying that the theory is their pieces are deactivated kwami vessels / Miraculous Stones. …Maybe. I think it would be cool at least. Or I could be completely wrong and have an overactive imagination, not totally without the realms of possibility!

 

Second, eehhh, third long rant piece done!

Adam/Nigel story (1/2)

Hello, my lovelies ^-^ I wrote this ficlet a couple of weeks ago after some comment I read on my bb ter0rr’s blog about Adam, Nigel and a possible daddykink scenario. Please note I am not back on the writing saddle yet, so it will take me some time to write the next part- but I felt like publishing this first chapter for you all ♥

I tried to be as respectful as I could to Adam’s characterization as a young man with Asperger’s, and if I succeeded it was because of the invaluable help I got from brassknuckled, who sent me a quick and insightful beta which made the story so much better <3

I hope you enjoy it! :D

TW for this chapter: Violence, explicit language, slurs.

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#152 This is everything I didn't get to say
  • Louis: "I like the way you smile, and laugh way to loudly." He mumbled with his hands folded in front of his tummy. Glaring intensely at the floor, refusing to look you in the eyes. "Your nose is cute but, you know, it really fucking annoys me when you don't understand why people love you, and when you bite your nails cause that's disgusting." You laughed, running your hand down your bicep with a large smile. "I get it Lou," He scrunched his eyebrows, adverting his glare towards you. "No, you don't." His blue eyes were hard, neck red with anger. Your smile disappeared, hand falling from his golden skin. "You don't get it or understand because your still sleeping with that bloke who doesn't even care about you. You can't see that I've been in love with you." His neck glowed a tan color once again after he stopped gritting his teeth and holding fist at his sides. "I'm sorry." He muttered, forcing himself to glance at the floor again. "It's okay, and I guess I'm sorry too because I never knew."
  • Niall: "Why are you telling me this now?" You frowned, playing with the fringe on top if his forehead while he frowned too. "I'm about to get married," He looked over you, in a white dress with lace and some girly stuff that he didn't even know existed. His mind raced with thoughts, especially the thoughts of what was under your dress and he tried not to think about it but it was hard. Did you have lace? Or was in a whole lingerie suit? "And I really do love him." The words were heavy on your tongue because Niall, your favorite person in the entire world, stood in front of you in a suit in tie and keys to his range rover in his hand. "No you don't." He whispered rather harshly and you knew he was right. You never loved him, your mom did. "You're right but I can't just leave." "And why not?" He pouted his lips but the corners of his mouth were turning upwards. You glances around the room to see that you were finally alone, bridesmaid starting to line up and this was it. Now or never. Your hands were gripping the ends of your dress to lift the ends off the ground. You smiled and started walking. To the exit door while Niall stood there with a larger smile. "Well hurry up lover boy we don't want them to catch me leaving my own wedding."
  • Harry: And you had a boyfriend, he was tall and handsome and was in the country for more than ten months out of the year and he could only be there for two or three months and those few weeks that are used for holidays. He should be happy for you, he really should but you were his. He mumbled a small "hi." When he saw you sitting on his bed in his old room that still had Polaroid pictures of his band across a pin board above his bed. "Hi." You smiled, falling back on his sheets. You flopped around while he stared at you with a huge smile, sometimes giggling along with you. You finally turned on your side to face him, still leaning against the door frame. "Well come in, make yourself at home." You smiled, patting the spot on the bed next to you. He placed his coat on top of his desk adjacent to his bed, crawling up to the spot next to you. You smiled, turning over to face him once again. Inhaling that scent of him and airports and hair gel but that was Harry for you. Smile so bright it could light up this whole room. "Have you thought about what I said?" His lips formed a small frown when your eyebrows scrunched. "Why do you think I'm here?" You whispered, wrapping your feet around his ankles, pulled yourself forward to his body. "Cause you that about it." He laughed, placing a few strands of hair behind your hair. "I broke up with him." You sighed after a while, "I'm sorry." He frowned and you laughed, genuinely laughed for the first time since he's been gone. "Why?" "I love someone else."
  • Zayn: "I love you," He screamed against the howling wind and at first he didn't think you heard him over it but your feet stopped walking towards the edge of the bridge, head hung low, staring at the water crashing against the sharp edges of the rocks below. "And I'm sorry it took this moment to realize that I felt this way." His voice softened, tears streaming down your face. This was embarrassing, because you were supposed to be strong and have it together all the time, every second of the day, and you were crumbling under a weight in front of the one person you know would never love you back. But here you were, and there he was, frowning against the ocean spray with his own tears glistening his dark eyes. "Come here!" He screamed, you fought your feet from moving further from the edge making the only thing possible to do was to fall backwards to the concrete. "Shit." You heard him mumble along with his footsteps. His arms wrapped around your waist and slowly drug you further from the edge. "I thought I was too late."
  • Liam: "I don't know what to say." "Don't say anything then" He sighed, reaching out for your hand to hold but you flinched away. "I have a boyfriend." You blurted for the thousandth time he's been talking to you. "I know!" He snapped, his left hand clenching a fist by his side. "You know you keep mentioning him because I think your scared. Scared of me, of what we could be and I don't get it. That boy your apparently hooking up with you doesn't give two shits about you, and you're too blind to even care. I would treat you do much better, I hope you know that." You pushed at his chest to give you some space, watching his fist clench harder to were his knuckles were turning white, teeth grinding down against each other. "I don't need you to force this on me. You should have told me before I found someone because I might've felt the same way." He frowned, backing away completely from you. "So you don't feel the same way anymore?" He pouted his lips, you just shrugged and finally fell to the floor.